


Sympathy for the Damned

by Xenobia



Category: Final Fantasy IX, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Afterlife, Androgyny, Crack, Death, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, Horror, Humor, M/M, This fic is fucked up I will admit, Yaoi, dub con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 04:24:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15964649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobia/pseuds/Xenobia
Summary: Crack alert: Sephiroth finds himself in a strange place after his defeat at Cloud Strife's hands. He meets a strange creature named "Kuja", a beautiful being that is trapped as he is in this odd limbo. He must determine a way to escape, and Kuja seems to be his only ally. Old renewed (and terrible) fanfic crack pairing. Read at your own peril.





	1. Chapter 1: Pleased to meet you. Hope you guessed my name.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my very first fanfiction that I ever wrote. I'm sorry.

He remembered the youthful face of his "brother" staring down at him in anguish, as the Iifa tree went mad all around them.

_"_ _Get out of here, you simple fool," Kuja snarled weakly as Zidane tried to lift him, "it's done. You can't save me. Don't make my last memory be of you getting killed trying to protect me!"_

_"_ _But, you saved us," Zidane said as he angrily scrubbed the tears from his eyes with a fist, "I can't just leave you in here! Fight, dammit! You don't have to die like this!"_

_A weak, coughing laugh trembled on Kuja's lips. "Of course I do. You'd never get both of us out of here in time, Zidane. I'm dead. Just leave me and go live in a castle with your canary. I'll hate you forever if you make me responsible for your death, after the trouble I went through to get you and your friends out of here!"_

_There was a ripping, rending sound above them, and gravel showered the two genomes. Zidane covered Kuja's body protectively with his own, and Kuja sighed and closed his eyes. Thankfully, the heavy rocks missed them, but time was running out. When the trembling calmed for a moment, Kuja reached up with his flagging strength and stroked Zidane's straw colored hair in a surprising gesture of affection. "Go, Zidane. Just go." His breath was rattling in his lungs, and his arm shook with the effort of the weak motion._

_Zidane straightened up and stared down at the sorcerer for a moment, capturing the hand that fell from his shoulder. He pressed Kuja's slack hand against his cheek and whispered, "Maybe you're going someplace better. I won't forget you."_

_Kuja smiled at him, feeling his awareness fading as his vision blurred. "I doubt it," he murmured, struggling to keep his eyes open, "Leave, while you still can."_

_Crying in earnest now, Zidane nodded and stood up. "Goodbye, Kuja. G-go to sleep now. You…you're tired." His shoulders slumped as he grabbed a handhold and began a slow ascent out of the roots of the Iifa tree._

_"_ _Go," Kuja whispered, feeling a humming sound in his head. "Go." His vision blurred further as tears filled his eyes. For a moment, he almost called Zidane back. Desperate hope that he might find a way to survive and get out of this grave made him try to reach up for the retreating figure. Common sense dragged him back, however, and he shook his head and sniffed. No. There was no way that Zidane could carry him out of here in time, and even if he could, the only thing he would be saving would be Kuja's corpse. The sorcerer knew that he would cease to draw breath before his counterpart could climb out of the bowels of the tree with him._

_"Live," he said softly as Zidane climbed out of sight._

_The roots of the Iifa tree were still growing and curling around him, but none of them moved in to crush him, yet. It was as if they were avoiding him on purpose, just to draw it out and tease him with what might have been. By now, he might have made it to the surface with Zidane, and perhaps someone could have found a way to extend his life…cleanse whatever malady it was that caused his strength to desert him. It was all Garland's fault._

_"_ _Sick old spook," Kuja said deliriously, "I should have killed you more slowly." He drifted in and out of consciousness after that, and he became irritated that death couldn't seem to decide whether or not to come for him. Each time he woke up from his doze, he swore. "Get on with it, damn you."_

_As if answering him, the ledge that he was lying helplessly on began to give way. It trembled and cracked beneath him, and Kuja closed his eyes and prepared himself for the end. He felt it give way, felt himself falling—and he kept on falling, into darkness…_

…And he woke up here. Wherever "here" was. He curled his fingers into a weak fist as he struggled to lift his head. Where was he, and how did he get here? He ached all over. He could feel cool tiles against his skin. He tried again to rise, but he was too weak, and he fell back to the floor with a groan.

 _"_ _Is this death?"_ he wondered, _"Because, I certainly hurt as though I'm alive! Perhaps this is my punishment—to spend eternity feeling as I did in those last moments before I lost consciousness."_

He experimentally ran his hands over his body, wondering if he was whole. He ached, but he didn't feel any cuts and he was sure he would know it if something was broken. His scanty clothing was torn in several places. Kuja smirked. Indeed, most of it was hanging by threads to his body. The transformation he had undergone in that last, terrible battle must have ripped most of the material and the fall from the Iifa tree couldn't have helped.

Finding himself more or less whole, he worked on lifting his head from the tiles that he was laying on. There was a soft, yellow light, but he couldn't see its source because his tangled, silver/violet hair had fallen over his face. He froze for a moment, for he could sense the presence of another person nearby. He heard the sound of hard-soled boots stepping on the floor a few feet away, and a shadow fell over him as the steps halted.

Kuja lifted one trembling hand and pushed the hair away from his face. Despite the dimness of the golden light source, he blinked his sapphire blue eyes painfully as he lifted his head. He must have been unconscious for quite a while, for the light to stab him so. He caught sight of a pair of black, round-toed boots first.

As he lifted his gaze, he found that the boots were tall, encasing the wearer's legs up to the knees. The owner was wearing baggy, black pants, which were tucked into the boots. Kuja's gaze traveled further, for a stab of fear had pierced his heart. The outfit was similar to Garland's, and for a horrible moment, he feared that he was again in the clutches of his old master, and that he could expect to be strapped to a table and prodded and poked at.

However, as he took in more of the figure, he realized that it couldn't be Garland. Though the light was coming from behind the person and casting their features in shadow, Kuja could see that the stranger was indeed a man, but he wasn't an old man at all. A long, black overcoat fell to the stranger's mid-calf, and it was held closed with a belt around the waist. The coat was parted in a V from the neck down, revealing a toned chest that had leather straps criss-crossing over it.

Kuja silently applauded his observer's dress sense, with the exception of the metal shoulder guards that seemed a bit oversized. He couldn't see the man's features at all for the backdrop of light, but he could make out that the stranger had very long hair, and surprisingly, the hair was similar in shade to Kuja's. The silky tresses fell straight and shiny around the stranger's shoulders, and the ends touched his black-gloved wrists. Two glowing, emerald eyes stared down at Kuja from the shadowed face.

"Well, do you want to introduce yourself first, or shall I?" Kuja rasped, unwilling to admit how unnerved he was by the stranger's silence, and that eerie gaze. The bright irises of the stranger's eyes had slit pupils instead of round…much like a cat's. They blinked slowly, and no response was forthcoming.

"Fine," Kuja said irritably, "I'll go first, then. My name is Kuja." He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at the figure. "K-u-j-a. Tell me if I'm going too fast for you, dear. Or, are you a mute? Perhaps that's why you're so quiet?" He was beginning to feel like a chattering schoolgirl, and it was making him none too happy. Kuja hated feeling foolish.

Still, the man said nothing. Instead, he reached one hand up and behind his head to grasp what Kuja now realized was the hilt of a sword sticking out from behind his shoulder. "Now, there's no need for that," the sorcerer said hastily as the tall man drew the weapon smoothly and rested the long, slim blade menacingly on his shoulder.

Kuja glanced at the bright, sharp metal that was far too close to his throat for his comfort, and he sighed. "Bother. Is this how you greet everyone who falls into your…your…whatever this place is? I take it that I'm here for a reason, after all. Are you dead, too?" He wasn't making any sense, and he told himself it wasn't fear that made his stomach do flips. Despite the growing anxiety he felt, he remained in control of himself and was attempting to gather the strength for an offensive spell. He knew that the stranger would likely slit his throat before he could cast, but he certainly wasn't going to go down without a fight.

The blade moved, sliding beneath his chin, and Kuja swallowed impulsively. The flat side of the cool metal pushed upwards, making him lift his face higher, and he realized that the stranger was getting a better look at him. He started to reach up and attempt to smooth his hair in a vain effort to groom himself, for even in this situation, he was very much aware of what a mess he was. The point of the weapon pressed lightly against his throat, just hard enough to sting and warn him to be still. He obeyed, for the dizziness returned, and he knew he didn't have the strength to do anything against this new foe.

"What are you?"

Kuja blinked again, surprised by the question. The voice was deep and young—and puzzled. Once the initial surprise of hearing the young man speak wore off, Kuja smirked. "I'm a genome. I don't suppose you've heard of us, if you're a Gaian. Or, perhaps you have. You look like you could be one of Garland's creations."

The figure shook his head. "I meant, are you a man or a woman? You've got the body of a boy, but your face is too pretty, and your hips are…disturbingly shapely for a male. What are you?"

Kuja's pale eyebrows shot up. Well, this wasn't the first time he had been asked that question, but under the circumstances, he was a bit offended that this person saw fit to ask him that, of all things. "I should think you'd be more interested in where I came from, and what I'm doing here," he said haughtily.

"I already know what you're doing here," the young man responded, and the cold steel of his sword slid from beneath Kuja's chin like a lover's caress. It daintily sifted into his pale hair, and he winced when it caught a tangle. "You've done things that you have to repent for. You're stuck here, like I am. Where you came from and what you did doesn't matter. I just want to figure you out, before I decide whether I should kill you or not."

"Kill me?" Kuja said with a frown, "Pardon me, friend, but I don't think you can 'kill' someone who's already dead."

The stranger sighed. "You aren't dead. This place preserved you and even now, it's healing your wounds."

Kuja lowered his gaze and considered this. Well, this strange man seemed to be telling the truth—at least about his wounds healing. He could feel his strength returning bit by bit, and the ache in his bones was lessening. "So, what is this place?"

The green eyes flared and widened, and Kuja quickly said, "I'm male, all right? Watch where you're pointing that thing!" It was ridiculous…here he was, lying on the floor of some bathhouse of purgatory, and he had a madman with a strange, long sword asking him what gender he was! "I'm dreaming," he muttered, "it's a fevered hallucination. My real body is still laying in the Iifa tree, slowly dying, and I'm imagining all of this."

For a few moments, the other didn't move. Kuja was beginning to feel like he could manage at least a minor shielding on himself, and he started to gather his energy to cast. The blade was abruptly withdrawn, making him stop in surprise. The stranger sheathed the weapon and said; "I guess I can leave you alone, for now. The old man who came before you reminded me too much of someone else, and I disposed of him. Don't try anything. I'm not in the mood."

"Old man? Garland?" questioned Kuja as he slowly pulled himself to his knees.

The stranger shrugged. "He wouldn't tell me his name. He was ranting about a failed experiment. I don't need people like that sharing limbo with me…I had enough of that in my old life. Get some rest." With that said, the young man turned to leave.

"Wait!" Kuja swore as he tried to rise. He had unconsciously allowed his tail to uncoil, and it tripped him up as he attempted to get off of his knees. Angrily, he coiled the troublesome appendage tightly, drawing it back up beneath his torn skirt. "Who are you! Where do we go to eat? Where do we sleep, and for the love of Terra, where the hell do we BATHE?"

The figure stopped and slowly turned back around to face him. "You'll find bedrooms scattered all over the place in this building. Dinner will be served in a couple of hours, in the dining room. There's a lake outside that you can bathe in."

Kuja shook his head in bafflement as he tried to absorb this. It sounded like he was staying at an inn, rather than trapped in purgatory! "This is insane! Bedrooms? Dinner? Who serves this dinner?"

"I don't know. The meals just appear three times a day. Whoever made this prison seems to like keeping us cared for. Well, keeping me cared for. I rarely have company, for long."

Kuja began to feel true fear with those words. He got the feeling that this man was very, very dangerous, and more than a little out of his mind. "Er…may I ask your name? Or would you rather just slit my throat and be done with it?"

The young man tilted his head, and Kuja could finally make out his features, for his eyes had adjusted to the light. The stranger was very handsome, with fine-boned, sculpted features and a strong jaw. His lips were sensitive looking, though clearly not used to smiling, and his nose was straight and slim. "Sephiroth," said the young man with a little smirk. "And I still haven't decided whether to kill you or not. That depends on you, Kuja."

Kuja stood on wobbly legs, and he tried to maintain his dignity with a little flip of his tangled hair. "Sephiroth. What a positively angelic name," he purred. "I think you'll find it worth your while to keep me around, friend."

One of Sephiroth's sculpted brows lifted. "Are you flirting?"

Realizing how his words had come out, Kuja cleared his throat. "At any other time, that would be a yes. For now, let us just say that I may be able to get both of us out of here…given time, that is."

Sephiroth laughed, then. His laughter was throaty and oddly disturbing. "Ah, I think you're going to prove to be amusing, Kuja. There's no way out. I've tried. You should just concentrate on staying on my good side." He bowed mockingly then, and then he turned and walked through the open, arching doorway.

Kuja stared after him with his lips parted. "Handsome, dangerous, sensual and insane," he whispered. Then he sighed. "I like all of it except for the 'insane' part. However, I do think I know a way to stay on his 'good side', as he put it…and I may need an ally, if I'm to learn who put me here, and why. He seems to know the place well enough." His shapely mouth curved into a grin. "Oh yes, staying on his good side should prove to be quite…distracting." He was sure that he had seen a spark of interest in those emerald eyes, even though it had been laced with confusion. "I've got him wondering, at least."

* * *

-To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gods, my multitasking sucks. I'm trying to do home improvement, edit two Final Fantasy stories, edit original fiction, write a commission piece and do laundry at the same time. I forgot I was overdue for an update on this. Please forgive my absent-minded ass for the delay.

Kuja walked unsteadily out of the bare room that he had arrived in. He was still very weak, and his legs were shaking.

The building was made of sandstone, with tile floors. It was clean, and the hallways were wide. The ceilings were high, making the building seem somewhat airy in its structure. He paused in the long hallway that joined to the room, and he leaned against the threshold.

He had found several bedrooms, and the interiors ranged from plain cells that even a monk would scoff at, to extravagant suites with king-sized beds and elegant furniture. Whoever was responsible for the creation of this place must have realized that different criminals would have different tastes, and they clearly went through pains to ensure that there was something for almost every type.

Kuja again wondered why someone went through all this trouble for people who had committed terrible crimes. He could only conclude that this place was meant to hold the chosen prisoners for eternity, and that the creator(s) must have decided that there was no harm in making it comfortable. Indeed, Kuja had already chosen a beautiful, large bedroom for himself. The bed had a canopy over it, complete with gossamer curtains that he adored. He felt secure that Sephiroth hadn't already claimed it—the swordsman gave the impression that he wasn't concerned with creature comforts.

Where had Sephiroth gone? As the shock of his predicament slowly wore off, Kuja's mind sharpened and he began to calculate his situation. He was not dreaming. This was all too real. He was alone in a strange place (supposedly some sort of limbo), but for a man that he knew he would have to be wary of. He wanted to know where Sephiroth was, and not for any frivolous reason. Some of the most beautiful creatures were also the most dangerous. He fell under that category himself; and there was no way he was going to underestimate his fellow prisoner. He rubbed his nearly bare arms as a chill of foreboding shivered his skin, though the temperature of the air was quite comfortable. The climate seemed to be somewhat tropical.

Now that he was thinking more clearly, he replayed the recent events in his mind. There was an unmistakable madness in Sephiroth's eyes that he hadn't heeded well when he first saw him. Kuja was unsure of exactly why the swordsman stayed his hand, when he could have killed him swiftly and easily, while he was frail. Why him? Sephiroth gave him the impression that there had been at least a few others to come to this place before him, and the swordsman had killed them all with barely a thought. If there was truly no way out of this place, why murder everyone who came? Unless they all had the personality of that annoying little summoner girl who followed Zidane around like a shadow, why kill the only company you may have for an eternity?

"Unless," Kuja reasoned, "he studies them all a bit, before deciding they aren't worthy of his company and disposing of them. After all, there are plenty of villains in the world. I imagine he doesn't have to wait for too terribly long for the next one to come in, once he's gotten bored with…with…oh, dear."

For a horrible moment, Kuja thought that he was going to be sick. He put a hand over his stomach and swallowed. Sephiroth was trying him out. He was sampling him like an appetizer at a banquet! When the next person came through that portal, Kuja was sure he was going to either end up fighting for his life or playing an audience to a slaughter. He certainly wasn't squeamish, so long as the blood being spilled wasn't his own, but he had no interest in watching an angel-faced lunatic hack up disoriented "guests" for eternity, either.

He had two major choices; each of which would open up separate, different possible options. He could, as Sephiroth suggested, get on the swordsman's good side and come to some sort of agreement with him. If that could be accomplished, he would have the choice of indulging in games of "dismember the stranger" at random intervals, or he could try to reason with Sephiroth and convince him that their combined energy would be better spent trying to escape. Of course, he would also have to find out _why_ Sephiroth was so intolerant of company. Granted, he hadn't seen much of this place yet, but Kuja was confident that it was huge. He believed that there should be room to harbor more than two people.

"Survival of the fittest," he whispered, smiling. Of course. With only one prison mate at a time, Sephiroth could keep company without having to worry about who might be plotting against him. Kill them before they can kill you.

The second major choice was to hide himself away until he recovered his full strength, and then try to destroy Sephiroth and find his own way out. This could lead to him being in the same position that the swordsman had been in, of course. He would be reduced to the task of choosing and discarding people as they came here. Either way was risky, but he felt that he was best off trying his first idea and keeping a close eye on Sephiroth.

* * *

Kuja discovered that whatever power it was that had healed his wounds also worked on his clothing. As he explored the arches, hallways and rooms of the building, the tears in his clothing mended, and even the dirt evaporated. By the time he found his way outside, his clothes were as good as new and as clean as if they had just been washed. "Well, at least that's one thing less to worry about," he remarked softly as he looked down at himself. "However, I'm going to be very annoyed if I'm stuck in the same outfit for eternity. I wonder if there's a means to make new clothing in this place..."

Now he stood in the open arch that led into a large courtyard. A gentle breeze brought the scent of garden flowers to Kuja's nose, and he sniffed appreciatively. "For hell, this is really nice," he said with a laugh. Sunlight angled into the spacious, enclosed yard, and Kuja shaded his eyes and looked for the sun. He was no expert, but judging by the position the glowing ball was at in the sky, it was now late afternoon. He narrowed his eyes on the sandstone walls surrounding the courtyard and contemplated. What was beyond those walls? They weren't very high at all, and he could scale them without too much difficulty, if he wished.

The sound of running water distracted him for a moment, and he followed the noise and found the lake Sephiroth had told him about. In truth, it wasn't a lake, but a large, clear pool. A small stream fed into it, and Kuja could see through the clean water all the way to the bottom. It wasn't very deep, and it was obviously man made. Dark tiles lined the bottom of the pool, and there were flowering bushes all around it, providing a token of privacy to anyone who used it for bathing.

Kuja shook his head. "Lake, indeed." He wondered if Sephiroth had ever even ventured this far out into the courtyard. The only reason he could imagine the other young man mistaking this pool for a "lake" would be if he only saw it from a distance. The thought that perhaps his fellow prisoner never bathed made Kuja grimace. He hadn't smelled bad. Maybe he was one of those individuals who didn't believe in immersing themselves in water. Kuja had met Gaians who had the quaint notion that baths were like sitting in their own filth, so they poured the water over their bodies or used sponges to get clean. He had never understood that. There were few things as sinfully wonderful as lying in a hot, scented bath and relaxing. He did enjoy the rain, however.

Kuja's mouth pulled into a delicate frown as he approached the pool and knelt gracefully beside it, dropping his hand into the clear water. It wasn't cold, but it certainly wasn't heated, either. He sighed. It appeared that any bathing he did here was going to be done in room temperature water, out in the open. No bubbles, no washcloths, and he was beginning to doubt there was even soap. He stood back up and shrugged. No matter. He didn't intend to be here for very long. He could have a hot bubble bath when he returned to Gaia (since he couldn't very well return to Terra, after making it practically uninhabitable).

It never occurred to him to think that he might not return home. Kuja was not a person for "maybe" or "hopefully". He _would_ escape this strange—though charming—prison. The only question in his mind was of how soon. He also intended to find Sephiroth, for the swordsman seemed to have vanished, and Kuja didn't like not knowing where the dangerous man was.

* * *

Kuja eventually became hungry, and he was finally satisfied that he had explored most of the compound. He made his way to the dining hall, which had been the second room he had discovered. The first was (thankfully) a bathroom, complete with toilet, sink, shaving paraphernalia (which he didn't need), and fresh towels.

He had even tested the bathroom, rather rudely, in fact. He was curious to find out if some sort of phantom butler would come in and clean up the mess, or if it would magically clean itself. Thinking about this, he snickered. If Sephiroth had been a lady rather than a man, Kuja never would have tested the housekeeping the way he chose to. He was still, after all, a gentleman—and there were five more bathrooms throughout the structure. If there hadn't been so many to choose from, he wouldn't have expressed his opinion of being kept here in quite such a vulgar manner. His laughter turned into a frown of annoyance as he recalled that some of the thoughts that led him to the outcome of his "artwork" revolved around his insane, beautiful companion. It really wasn't a healthy practice, to fantasize about a madman who would probably just as soon cut your privates off as participate in any of the erotic scenarios your mind conjured up.

"Next time, I'll think about the lovely canary I left behind," Kuja muttered, remembering the dark-haired beauty that Zidane probably held in his arms at this very moment. Yes…Garnet was a much more wholesome image to picture…one that wasn't likely to turn into a frothing lunatic at any moment.

Sephiroth's voice cut through him abruptly. "The next time for what?"

Kuja closed his eyes and swore silently. He could feel the tall swordsman's presence at his back, and he felt a thrill of danger mixed with annoyance that the man had come up behind him so quickly, and without him sensing it.

"I left a little present in one of the bathrooms for our jailers," Kuja snapped caustically. "To show my appreciation for being put in this place."

Sephiroth glided around in front of him, and his incandescent eyes flashed with what might have been amusement. He folded his arms over his chest and said; "I unfortunately discovered your 'gift', earlier today. I must say, I'm impressed. I wasn't aware that people could…produce…that much of it."

Kuja shrugged, and to his horror, he felt his cheeks warm. "I was built to excel, so to speak. Perhaps making me easily excitable was his way of insuring that I would be easily distracted. Who knows?"

"Whose way?"

"Garland. I've already mentioned him. He's the old nut-job that made all of us genomes and came up with the idea of draining the life out of Gaia to restore Terra."

Sephiroth's pale eyebrows came together in a frown, and he tilted his head. "So, you're from another world entirely. Interesting. That's five different ones, now."

Kuja frowned, now. "What are you talking about? You aren't from Gaia or Terra?" He really should have known, given Sephiroth's strange eyes and his accent. "How is it that we can understand one another, then?" Even more curious now, he added, "Where are you from?"

"I come from the Planet."

Kuja waited, thinking that the other man was going to say; "The Planet of…" and then give him the name of the planet itself.

Sephiroth didn't finish. He didn't add a name, either. He stood there at the threshold, blocking the way into the dining hall, and he looked at Kuja expectantly.

Kuja held his hands out. "Yes? You come from the Planet of…?"

"Exactly. There's no 'of', however."

Kuja's eyes went blank and he tried to make sense of this. After a moment, he shook his head and tried again. "No, darling angel, I think we've misunderstood one another. What is the name of the world that you came from?"

Sephiroth looked equally perplexed. "I just told you. I came from the Planet."

Kuja covered his mouth and coughed to cover up the hysterical giggle that was trying to surface. The brightness of Seph's eyes obviously wasn't an measure of his intelligence. "Yes, we've been over that. What did you call your planet?" Perhaps the name of the world was simply too complex to be translated? He was still wondering how two people from completely different worlds—perhaps even dimensions—could understand one another's words. Unless by some fluke, this "Planet" was actually Gaia and poor Sephiroth was so muddled he couldn't remember the name.

"For the last time, my world is called Planet. Nobody ever bothered to name it anything else."

"Oh." Kuja was dumbfounded, but he realized that Sephiroth was becoming impatient with the conversation, so he changed the subject. "So, shall we sit down to eat? You said you spared me because you were curious, so I'll be happy to fill you in, so to speak. We may as well get to know one another, if we're to get out of here."

Sephiroth stepped aside to allow Kuja to pass, but he argued, "I've told you, there's no way out. Beyond these walls is a barren wasteland, with no end. It's even worse when the sun sets."

Kuja paused and looked over his shoulder at him. "How so?"

Sephiroth shook his head and lowered his eyes. "It doesn't matter. We can't escape this place. The only thing to do is eliminate possible threats and wait." He drew his beautifully crafted sword and pondered the shiny blade for a moment, eyes narrowed. "Perhaps some day, I'll grow weary of all this and join the others in the peace I gave them."

Kuja stared at him. He realized he had been wrong, at least partially. Sephiroth thought, on some level, that he was performing mercy killings, it seemed. Only those who caught and held his interest in a positive way weren't "freed" from this prison, and Kuja had no way of knowing if anyone before him had ever lived for an entire day in this place. "Why didn't you kill me?" He didn't really expect an answer, but the way Sephiroth was staring at the sword was disturbing. There was an expression of almost sexual hunger on the young man's sculpted face, and Kuja half expected him to start showering kisses along the length of the blade. Annoyed with it, he decided to make a joke.

"You know, if a man needs a sword that big, he could be compensating for something."

The emerald gaze snapped to him, and Kuja hastily constructed a magical shield around himself and nearly took a step back. He held his ground, however, and kept a playful, charming smile up to show that he was teasing. He hid his surprise and intrigue well when Sephiroth's mouth curved into a crooked, confident smile. He didn't say anything, but that smile said that he wasn't the least bit insecure about his manhood.

Kuja's gaze suddenly wanted very much to slide down the young man's body to see what size the bulge was below Sephiroth's waist. He blinked and somehow managed not to leer at the attractive swordsman as he said. "Well, shall we sit? I take it the food should appear shortly?"

Sephiroth nodded and sheathed his weapon, and Kuja gave a casual toss of his silvery hair and managed to look relaxed as the tall swordsman joined him at the table. He stared at Sephiroth as he started towards one of the many chairs situated around the long table, for he felt that he was playing a dangerous game of roulette, here. Instead of moving to the opposite side of the table to take a seat across from him, Sephiroth walked straight to Kuja and pulled out the chair that the sorcerer was about to sit in.

Both of them frowned at the same time. Sephiroth's actions were those of a gentleman who was pulling out a chair for a lady. He seemed just as confused about his behavior as the genome, but he schooled his features and said; "allow me. You are, after all, my guest."

Kuja was too disciplined to let his surprise show beyond a slight furrowing of his brows. Just as politely, he smiled and gracefully lowered himself into the chair, then allowed the taller man to push him forward a bit. "Thank you."

Sephiroth said nothing, but when he took his place on the other side of the table, he kept his gaze lowered, and his face was a tad flushed. Kuja could have sworn he saw the swordsman's lips move, and it looked like he was saying, "What are you doing?" to himself.

Kuja didn't know if he was more amused or disturbed. He was causing conflicting thoughts in the swordsman—likely because of the grace of his barely hidden body and the prettiness of his features. Perhaps seduction wasn't the best idea, after all. At least, not right now. Sephiroth's behavior and the way he seemed to argue with himself so often made Kuja wonder if the man had at least two personalities inside of him, and making moves on him when he was clearly so befuddled could cause the worst to happen.

Kuja smiled with cheerfulness that he didn't really feel and kept his shield up as they waited for the dinner to appear (or whatever it did. He still wasn't quite sure of what to expect. He hadn't seen any ghostly servants yet, so he assumed the place magically created things). He filled the silence by telling Sephiroth his story, and he was relieved to see that some of the chaos faded from the swordsman's gorgeous, feral eyes as he listened with interest. Perhaps this dinner would be pleasant, after all.

* * *

-To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

As Kuja suspected, their dinner simply appeared on the table. There was far too much of it for the two of them to eat, and the selection of food was varied. He was surprised to find some of his favorite dishes among the banquet. He took all of this under careful consideration as he selected what he wanted and filled his plate. He noticed Sephiroth doing the same. Some of the food looked absolutely disgusting to Kuja, while there were some dishes he thought he might sample if he had room for any of it. As they ate in silence, the sorcerer pondered things. There were twelve seats at the long table. The abundance of food and the variety suggested that his jailers intended to cater to twelve "guests".

"Does the same food appear every night?" He queried after sipping appreciatively on a glass of red wine.

Sephiroth shook his head. "No, there are different dishes from one evening to the next. Whomever put us here seems to be quite thorough about keeping our diets healthy and varied."

"What will happen to all of this food when we've eaten what we want? Does it just vanish, or do we have to find someplace to dump it?"

Sephiroth chewed and swallowed before replying, "that door against the back wall leads to a cold storage. If there's any food here that you want to put away for later, make yourself a leftover plate and put it in the storage. Everything else vanishes sometime after we leave the room."

Kuja frowned. "This place is a mountain of strange," he mumbled.

Sephiroth shrugged. "I'm not the domestic sort, so it works fine for me."

Kuja asked Sephiroth if he would tell him his story, but the swordsman refused, saying that he "wasn't in the mood". He wouldn't even answer when Kuja asked him how long he had been there. In fact, the only further conversation the sorcerer got out of him was when he inquired about if there was anything to do around there to pass the time.

"There's a library downstairs, in the basement. There's also some craft rooms branching off from it. I've only ever bothered with the library, so don't bother asking me what sort of craft supplies there are. You'll have to see that for yourself."

Kuja sighed. Well, perhaps there was a tailoring room. Making himself some new clothing could occupy him for a time, while he tried to devise a way out of here. He considered asking Sephiroth how many people he had killed before he showed up, but the swordsman's bright eyes were becoming distracted. Kuja decided not to say anything else to his fellow prisoner for the rest of the meal…especially anything with the word "kill" or "death" in it.

* * *

Kuja's strength returned in full after three days, and he learned his prison like the back of his hand. Of Sephiroth, he saw little, except for the three times per day that meals appeared in the dining hall. The swordsman kept to himself and rarely spoke, and Kuja didn't press him, for he sensed that Sephiroth was struggling with himself. The tall swordsman would sometimes suddenly press his lips together and glare at nothing, or his hand would tremble. Other times, he rubbed his temples as though a headache was coming on, but he muttered to himself.

The sorcerer came to realize something; Sephiroth didn't _want_ to kill him, but there was a part of him that seemed to be urging him to do so. He caught Sephiroth giving him strange looks occasionally, which ranged from predatory to worried. It was as if the warrior couldn't make up his mind.

Kuja considered the reasons. He had counted, and there were twelve separate bedrooms in the building. There were six different bathrooms. There were books in the library that seemed to have been deliberately put there for the reading enjoyment of specific kinds of people. There were poetry books, horror novels, biographies of people he had never heard of, and books written in languages that weren't native to either Gaia OR Terra.

There were even pornography magazines, and when Kuja opened one of them up with a grin, he was disturbed to find that these particular pornography books were designed to cater to someone with a serious case of necrophilia. He didn't want to, but he gathered the courage to ask Sephiroth if they were his. He had to know if he was at least safe in death from the man. Sephiroth gave him an insulted look and said he would rather gouge his own eyes out than glance at the stuff. This made Kuja feel a bit better, and he put the filthy magazines back where he found them.

In summary, this purgatory was meant to hold twelve specific criminals, each with different ambitions, personalities and preferences. Sephiroth had admitted nonchalantly that he had slaughtered everyone that came before Kuja. How many were due to arrive? Was he the last? Could that be the reason why the mysterious young swordsman hadn't killed him yet?

Kuja was confident now that he could defend himself aptly, should Sephiroth have a change of heart. He was arrogant, but he wasn't foolish. He knew that his handsome, insane associate would prove to be quite the challenge, should Sephiroth ever attack him. Kuja had himself decided that he wouldn't be the first to strike a blow, however. Though he was confident that he would eventually find a way to escape this place, there was always the chance, however slight, that he wouldn't. An eternity with absolutely no company was a fate worse than death to the genome. What use was there in keeping oneself beautiful, if there was nobody around to admire it?

He knew that Sephiroth enjoyed looking at him, though the swordsman only did so subtly. He knew that he was confused about him, and Kuja didn't know whether it was amusing or annoying that Sephiroth couldn't seem to make up his mind if he was male or female. There were times when the swordsman came close to doting on him, without even realizing it. He had a habit of pouring Kuja's wine for him at dinner, and at least one of the three meals in each day always started with Sephiroth pulling the chair out for the genome.

It didn't surprise Kuja, really. He just attributed his associate with more intelligence than most people he had met…after getting to know him a little better, that is. It wasn't the first time a man had felt an attraction towards him based on his somewhat effeminate looks, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

The thing that bothered Kuja was that he was undoubtedly attracted to Sephiroth, but he had no way of knowing whether the return of attraction he sensed was genuine or simply because the swordsman had been locked away for a long time and was thinking of him as a woman. After all, even men who would never dream of touching other men in passion eventually changed their minds out of desperation, when they were locked up with other men long enough. Perhaps Sephiroth hadn't attacked him yet because he was horny.

This made Kuja laugh. Well, it wasn't possible to rape the willing, so if Sephiroth did indeed decide to attack him with _that_ particular sword, he would gladly take the blow. He had to firmly remind himself to get the erotic images of such an encounter out of his head, for it was distracting him from his research. He spent several hours a day outlining possible means of escape. The first step, he imagined would be to find out what was beyond the walls of this little villa that he was stuck in. "Tonight", he promised himself on the fourth day, after lunch.

* * *

Sephiroth didn't show up for dinner that night, and Kuja wondered if it was possible that the swordsman knew of his plan to scale the wall and see what was beyond. Did he plan to stop him?

Kuja ate without tasting the meal. Perhaps Sephiroth was sleeping. He knew where the swordsman's bedroom was, for he had stumbled past his open door one night on the way to bed, but he had never infringed upon him. The annoying concern that his associate was ill began to surface, and Kuja sighed heavily. "Face it, you don't have anyone to show off to," Zidane would have said. He would have been right, too. Kuja knew that he was vain, and part of the thrill of Sephiroth's company was seeing that the swordsman was just as vulnerable to his looks as anyone else was. It made him feel alive, to see the attractive man's emerald gaze linger on his body and know the sort of thoughts that were inspired. Even if Sephiroth's interest was only caused by confusion and loneliness, it was better than nothing.

He finished his dinner and put the remaining wine in the storage room, for he sensed that he might need a drink to salve his frustration later, if he could find nothing beyond the walls that would aid his escape. He kept his senses open and his guard up as he moved through the building towards the outside. It bothered him that Sephiroth hadn't come to dinner. The only pattern that the swordsman had shown so far was that he had a healthy appetite, and thus, mealtimes were when Kuja saw him the most. He still hadn't figured out where Sephiroth went between meals. He knew he didn't always go to his bedroom. Perhaps there was a secret nook somewhere in this place that Kuja hadn't yet discovered.

For now, he would merely keep his guard up as he went to his task. He couldn't afford to ponder the whereabouts of his associate. He needed to take notes of the terrain beyond these walls and decide if it was worth the risk to store food and set out to travel. Hopefully, before the next "arrival" came here. Kuja had no interest in a life or death fight against Sephiroth, and despite all that he had done in the past, no interest in killing a stranger the moment they arrived, either.

Once in the courtyard, he hurried to the wall. The moon was full, and it had an orange cast to it. He was glad for the extra light, though in truth, he had chosen to do this at night because he was a nocturnal creature by nature, and his vision was better in darkness. During the day, the sun was too bright for him to have gotten a clear view of the surrounding landscape. He had also prepared a farseeing spell, to aid him in his study of the terrain. He walked to the wall and looked up at it for a moment, pondering. He could scale it easily—he was very agile. However, it had been a while since he had used his powers, and a levitation spell was simple enough to cast, without draining his energy much at all.

With a delicate shrug of his shoulders, the sorcerer murmured an arcane phrase, and he smiled and closed his eyes in pleasure as the magic coursed through him and lifted him gently off of the ground. What was the sense in risking a tear in his clothing, after all? Sephiroth never said whether the magic that repaired his wounds and clothing upon arrival would work again, so until he got around to making new ones, he preferred to keep these as clean and rip-free as possible.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

Kuja checked a gasp and paused his ascent. His boots had just gotten level with the top of the wall, and he had barely gotten a look at what appeared to be a vast desert when Sephiroth's voice startled him. He turned around slowly in mid-air and put his hands on his shapely hips, tossing his silver/violet hair. "Why not? You may be perfectly happy in this little paradise, my friend, but I am growing bored of it. The world awaits, and I intend to return to it…alone, if I have to." He was a bit disconcerted to see that Sephiroth was floating as well. The swordsman didn't bob, as Kuja did. He stood upon the air as if it was solid ground, and it was certainly an eerie sight.

Sephiroth smiled coldly. His naked sword glistened in the orange light of the moon, and his long, silver tresses flowed like water over his leather-clad body. "I told you, it's even worse at night. Don't go past that wall, little genome."

Kuja might have taken his warning into consideration, but his last sentence made the sorcerer's temper flare. "Little?! Of all the patronizing…insulting…" he sputtered and glared blue daggers at the taller man. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine!" And he floated closer to the top of the wall.

Sephiroth shrugged. "Have it your way. I warned you." Then he shot straight up without warning and did a flip in the air, and then he rolled onto his back and flew into a window on the second floor.

Kuja raised his eyebrows at the display. "A natural ability?" he pondered, intrigued. "Ah well, it doesn't matter. He can whiz around until he's blue, for all I care. Ha! 'Little genome'. I'm not the one who's too afraid of the dark to risk having a look around." He made an elegant, yet rude gesture in the direction that Sephiroth had disappeared to, and then he turned his attention back to the cracked and barren landscape beyond the wall. "What an ugly environment," he mused as he murmured the spell of Far Seeing.

"Mountains!" he gasped when his eyesight sharpened and he could see beyond normal visual range. Indeed, he could see the jagged peaks of black mountains, far in the distance. Storm clouds boiled over them, and multicolored lightning streaked from cloud to ground. It didn't look to be an easy trip. He narrowed his eyes and frowned as he noticed movement here and there. Focusing on it, he could swear he saw the figures of people, lurching along on the ground. "There could be a portal out there, somewhere. Or a city, with people who know how to escape!"

He decided to float out over the perimeter of the walls, to see what he might find on the other side. Perhaps there was a road, somewhere, or even a magical energy flux that he could use to his advantage. He floated over the wall…

…and dropped like a rock. With a surprised cry, Kuja plummeted to the ground. His fall was broken by something that felt squishy in some places, and hard in others. "Drat!"

He rose into a sitting position and shook his head to clear it, and when he looked around to see what he had fallen on, his hand flew to his mouth. Corpses. He was sitting on a pile of corpses that were stacked against the wall. He cried out in horror and jerked his other hand away as he realized it was resting on the decomposing face of what could only be described as a clown. The stench was horrible, and he wondered why he hadn't smelled it before. Standing up hastily, he backed away, keeping one sleeve covering his nose and mouth. He recognized one of the bodies. It hadn't decomposed as badly as the others, yet. Garland's empty husk lay crowning the pile, and ironically, it was the body that Kuja's butt had just been touching.

"Oh, this is disgusting," he gagged, backing away, "I mean, this is really, REALLY disgusting!"

The bodies were neatly sliced open, and he could guess by what weapon. So, this is what Sephiroth did with all of the previous visitors. Kuja nearly vomited, but he managed to hold it down as he realized he could get information from this. Trying to ignore his twisting stomach, he carefully counted the bodies. "Ten," he whispered. "I was the last prisoner to come here."

He was dimly thankful to Sephiroth for disposing of Garland and saving him the trouble, but all he could concentrate on for the moment was the way his stomach was beginning to heave. He turned aside and emptied his dinner onto the scorched earth. He detected the sound of something shuffling towards him, but he was too sick to react to it, at the moment.

* * *

-To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update for the new year! Sorry to keep you waiting.

At first, he thought the sound was coming from a nearby, withered tree whose branches were bumping against the wall in the wind. Kuja emptied the last of the contents of his stomach and straightened back up with a disgusted grimace. His eyes slid of their own accord to the putrid stack of corpses lying against the outer wall. "I'm certainly not free of sin," he thought morbidly, "and I'm sure these fellows deserved this, but I don't intend to stay here and risk joining them!"

He took a deep breath and ordered his stomach to settle down. It was then that he heard the sound again—closer, this time. It wasn't the tree that was making the shuffling noise. He purposefully slowed his breathing and gathered energy for an attack spell, and he slowly turned to face the direction where the noise was coming from.

Kuja thought that the horror of finding Sephiroth's rotting victims was bad enough, but the sight that greeted him made him light-headed with fear. Garland was shuffling towards him. The old man's arms were outstretched, and he had a hungry, anticipating look on his weathered face. Kuja frowned and blinked, too disciplined to let his fear get the better of him. He quickly looked back at the pile of bodies. Yes, Garland's corpse was still crowning it. He backed away from the creature that was advancing on him as if it meant to hug him to its breast. "I don't know what you are, but it would be wise of you to stay your distance," he said softly.

The creature that looked like Garland paused and smiled intelligently at him. "Kuja," it said in a caressing tone. It raised its arms again, and its grin split abnormally wide on its face. "You've been baaaaad!"

As Kuja gaped, "Garland's" face split open at the mouth, and writhing tentacles pushed their way out of the opening. Each tentacle had a staring eye at the tip of it, and they all stared at the dumbfounded sorcerer. A sickening gurgle emitted from the depths of the cavity that was once a mouth. The long, bony hands reached out and made grasping motions as the figure advanced. A sickening, viscous red ooze began to spill out of the red gem that decorated the creature's breastplate, coating the reaching form.

"You must be joking," Kuja rasped with a combination of horror and disgust. He didn't wait to see what the being intended to do to him. He closed his eyes and unleashed the fury of his spell, confident that Ultima would take care of the doppelganger quickly and efficiently. There was a fizzle and a crackle of light around his hands, and nothing more. Kuja's eyes snapped open and he stared at his own hands with disbelief. "What went wrong?!" he cried, now feeling true panic. A grave-cold hand grasped his wrist, and he shouted and fought against it. The writhing tentacles made slurping sounds as they moved closer and closer to his face. "Let go of me!" he yelled fearfully, and he kicked out in desperation.

His booted foot connected solidly with the creature's torso, making a disgusting, wet smacking sound. The hand that held his wrist slackened its grasp just enough for him to yank free of it, and he fell back and moved towards the wall. Now he could see other figures shambling towards him, and even from the distance, they were all familiar to him. All were his victims. He was directly responsible for each of their deaths, and now they were coming for him. Their bodies broke apart as they stumbled towards him, and they grew fiendish appendages like "Garland" had.

"Kuuujaaa," they moaned.

"Stay away from me!" He shouted, breaking off a branch from the dead tree to use it as a weapon. He swung wildly as they closed in, barely keeping them at bay. They continued to advance on him until he was forced to climb onto the pile of corpses. Kuja glanced up and licked his dry lips. He might be able to hoist himself over the wall, if he could reach the edge. Casting a frightened look at the creatures that were nearly within touching distance of him, he tossed the branch aside and jumped, reaching up wildly with his hands. He missed, and a sob broke past his lips. "I am going to die horribly," he thought in terrified despair.

He stared longingly up at the wall, wishing that he could reach the edge. A figure emerged on the edge of the wall, and his heart stopped momentarily with hope. Sephiroth's glowing eyes looked down at him, and Kuja stared right back, refusing to beg for help. He flinched and fought as the nearest creature laid a clammy hand on his shoulder. He managed to shove it off, but another was reaching out to take its place.

Slowly, so slowly, Sephiroth extended a gloved hand down to the imperiled genome. He said nothing. He merely stared into his eyes with maddening indifference. Kuja knew that there was a chance the swordsman was merely taunting him. He expected Sephiroth to yank his hand out of reach and laugh at him when he reached up, but the lifeline remained. The sorcerer grasped Sephiroth's arm with both hands, and with his help, he hoisted himself back onto the wall. He fell into his dubious rescuer's arms with a shaken sob, and the movement caused them both to overbalance and fall backwards. Kuja squeezed his eyes shut and prepared for the jarring impact, but it never came. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.

Sephiroth was cradling him in his arms as easily as if he was a child, and they hung suspended and level with the top of the wall. Kuja turned his head and stared down at the monstrosities—which were no longer there! "Where did they go?" he questioned wildly, twisting fearfully in his tall companion's arms.

Sephiroth tightened his hold on the slight young man in his arms so that he wouldn't fall to the ground. "Be still. They vanished when you re-entered the safe dome. They can't exist without your sins and fears to give them substance."

Kuja was on the verge of hyperventilation, and the whites of his eyes showed all the way around as he looked this way and that, then looked dubiously at Sephiroth. "They can't get in here?"

Sephiroth's lips quirked. "No, they can't. They only manifest when you're outside of the dome, where the environment renders your spells useless and your fears can give them shape. I warned you not to go over the wall, didn't I?"

Sephiroth's tone was chastising, but Kuja was beyond caring. He clung to the tall swordsman and shivered uncontrollably, feeling dizzy and sick and bewildered by what had just happened. It all kept running together in his mind, and he began to feel detached. Sephiroth frowned at him and smoothed some wild, pale strands of hair away from the genome's sweating forehead. He felt the smooth skin with his palm and sighed. "You're going into shock. Snap out of it." He shook him, but not roughly.

Kuja vaguely felt a stinging pain in his wrist, where the Garland apparition had grabbed him. He went from being cold to being hot almost instantly, and he moaned. Sephiroth glanced down and swore. "It scratched you. You've been poisoned."

Kuja looked up at him and blinked, trying to comprehend what he had said. Poisoned? Then, perhaps he was going to die, after all. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the other's hard chest. He just wanted to sleep. He felt himself soaring, felt the cool air rush over his fevered skin, and he smiled groggily. "Good girl, Silver," he whispered, reaching out to pet his dragon's neck.

Sephiroth flew through the corridors of the building and smirked as the sorcerer in his arms patted his leather jacket weakly. "Call me a girl again, and I'll drop you."

It was a hollow threat. Kuja's silver-furred tail had come uncoiled, and it curled weakly around Sephiroth's thigh, as if trying to help the sickened genome to hold onto him. The action was strangely endearing to Sephiroth, and he glanced down at Kuja's upturned face, noting with disconcertment that the sorcerer's parted, shapely lips were practically riveting. That they were pale at the moment didn't distract from their appeal. He carried his burden into the bedroom that Kuja had chosen and lay him down on the large bed. Kuja had passed out, but his stubborn, soft-furred tail stubbornly remained twined about Sephiroth's upper thigh, and the swordsman had to wrestle with it for a moment to get it to release him.

Kuja moaned and struggled to open his eyes. His vision was blurred, but he could make out Sephiroth's features gazing down at him. Even distorted, his face was handsome. "Thank you…for being…polite enough…to let me die in a…comfortable bed," he whispered deliriously.

Sephiroth suddenly laughed. "You aren't going to die. This place will purge the poison from you and heal you, as it did when you first arrived. You're just lucky you got back over the wall before the poison got a chance to kill you out there. It's impossible to die in here, so long as you have a pulse. Even without a pulse, this purgatory would bring your body back to life."

Even as Sephiroth spoke, the terrible numbness was slowly going away, and Kuja's thoughts were clearing. He shuddered in pain and remembered horror. "The bodies outside…is that why you dumped them there? So that they couldn't come back?"

Sephiroth's smile faded, and his eyes became grim. "Yes. It was either get them out of here or let them come back to life and start it all over again. Someone was having a good laugh, watching us all kill one another over and over again. If my head hadn't been fucked up already when I came here, the constant killing, dying and resurrections would have insured that it got that way."

Kuja blinked to clear the fog from his eyes. "Why didn't you just leave me to die out there?"

Sephiroth regarded him thoughtfully for a few seconds, and then he shrugged and looked away. "It seemed like a good idea to pull you up, at the time. Besides, those bodies that you found…they weren't completely dead."

Kuja felt his stomach lurch again. "Pardon me?"

Sephiroth's intense eyes slid back to him. "They're all trapped in their husks, but unable to do anything. Think of it as a coma, of sorts. They aren't really sentient, but their souls haven't departed. If we were to drag them back over the wall, they would come to life by morning, and the perpetual slaughter would start all over again. Oh, we tried to be civil with one another and work out compromises, but the slightest insult would start a chain reaction. Eleven maniacs locked together in one place, even such an elegant one, doesn't make for a fluffy bedtime story."

"But you aren't worried that I might try to kill you?" Kuja was feeling better, at least, the world wasn't spinning anymore, his guts weren't on fire, and his vision was clearing.

Sephiroth shook his head. "You were driven to do what you did out of desperation and fear. The rest of us committed our crimes out of a desire for power. Of any of us, you probably have the most sanity and least motivation to kill on a whim." He tilted his head and reached out slowly, capturing one of the feathers that crowned Kuja's luxurious hair gently between his thumb and forefinger and stroking it.

Kuja sighed and closed his eyes. Shivers still wracked him, but they were the result of lingering terror. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so horrified as when he was attacked by those…things—and that was saying a lot. Sephiroth's weight left the bed, and Kuja's eyes snapped open. "Wait," he called hoarsely, "don't go."

Sephiroth stopped and turned to look at him. "You're safe, now."

Kuja moistened his lips nervously and darted suspicious looks at the shadows in the room. "I…I…that is, you can stay, if you like. No need to go off hiding in the shadows, you know."

Sephiroth lifted an eyebrow, and his mouth curved into a crooked smile as if he knew the excuse for what it was. "You're inviting me to stay in your bedroom?"

Kuja shrugged weakly. "If you like." He knew he was playing with fire, here, but his heart was beating like it was ready to explode from his chest, and every shadow in the room seemed like an enemy waiting until he was alone to devour him.

Sephiroth slowly walked back to the bed and sat on the edge. His eyes were troubled, as if he was trying to decide what to do and didn't understand why he was even debating. The wind picked up outside, and there was a distant rumble of thunder.

Kuja shivered again. "The storm I saw in the distance is coming closer, it seems." He normally liked the rain and everything to do with it…including thunder and lightning. Now the booming seemed ominous. A louder thunderclap broke nearby, and the sorcerer gave a little cry and hugged Sephiroth instinctively around the waist, feeling like a scared child.

Sephiroth gazed down at him for a moment, and then he began to stroke the genome's soft hair in long, slow motions. "They can't come in here," he reminded his companion, "they ceased to exist when you left their domain."

Kuja nodded, but he didn't let go. Better to embrace madness than to lay scared and huddling beneath the covers. Perhaps Sephiroth was a lunatic, but for the time being, he was an ally. If he meant to harm him, he wouldn't have bothered saving him in the first place. Feeling safer with the swordsman present, Kuja started to ask questions. "I couldn't…er…smell the bodies when I was on this side of the wall. Is that because of this 'dome' you mentioned?"

"Yes. This place is surrounded by a protective bubble that filters chemicals out of the air and holds the malignancy of the surrounding land at bay. You can't see the dome, but the walls are its boundaries. I tried to cross the wasteland after disposing of the others, and I didn't make it further than a mile before I was forced to turn back. My demons wounded me badly by the time I struggled back over the wall, and I fell into a coma upon getting safely back in. I don't know how long I was out. You arrived a few weeks after that. That was my last attempt to escape this place."

Amazed that Sephiroth had told him this much, Kuja looked up at him. "Have you tried other means? I've gathered that the scenic route isn't going to be the way for us to get out of here."

Another slight smile flitted over Sephiroth's lips in amusement at the sorcerer's words. "I've searched the arrival room and every other room in this place. There was no energy pattern to use as an anchor. If there's a way out of here, I haven't found it." The tone of his voice said that if HE hadn't found it, it probably didn't exist. No ego, there.

Kuja winced as another peal of thunder rolled in the skies. "I gather that those…things…that attacked me were some sort of doppelgangers that take the form of what we're afraid of and who we've wronged?"

"Demons," corrected Sephiroth, "and yes, that's exactly what they do. In here, it's purgatory. Out there-" he nodded towards the window-"out there, it's Hell."

Kuja frowned and rested his head in Sephiroth's lap. He stared at the wall and tried to think of some way to get around all this. His respect for the brilliance and cruelty of this place grew. Yes, the prisoners were provided with comfortable living quarters, good food, games, books and crafts to occupy their time, and immortality. However, the being or beings responsible for building this place must have known that the criminals they hand-picked to keep here would never be able to resist the desire to rise above one another, even if it meant climbing over each other's corpses. They must have gotten a jolly laugh out of seeing Sephiroth and the others slay one another over and over again. Kuja could imagine it. One was slain, and when he awoke, he sought out his killer for revenge. And so on, and so fourth.

Kuja curled into a fetal position and closed his eyes. The process could start all over again, if those corpses were inside instead of outside of the wall. Sephiroth wasn't so bad, after all. What were his choices, really? He would have lived in struggle for eternity, fighting, dying, and regenerating until the end of time. Who has time to look for a way out, when you've got a compound full of bloodthirsty lunatics waiting for the opportunity to kill you? Yes, the swordsman was unbalanced and dangerous. Yes, he seemed to lack simple compassion (though for some reason, he hadn't told Kuja to get off of his lap, and he was still stroking his hair), but the genome decided that of all people assigned to this place, he was best off with Sephiroth as a companion. He didn't even want to think of what his life would have been like if Sephiroth hadn't been the last man standing and wasn't intelligent enough to toss the bodies over the wall, where they couldn't revive. The thought that it might have been Garland gave the genome chills.

Sephiroth's stroking grew bolder, sliding down Kuja's back. The sorcerer sighed in pleasure at the touch and snuggled even closer. He didn't see the expression of mingled longing, admiration and confusion on Sephiroth's face. He was soon asleep. Sephiroth stayed and continued to stroke him for a while, as he would a sleek cat. In many ways, Kuja reminded him of a cat. And a woman. And a teenaged male. Sephiroth frowned and shook his head. Angels were said to be androgynous beings, the very picture of beauty. The swordsman thought he understood. Garland had wanted an Angel of Death to collect souls on Gaia. He had created a genome that fit the image. That must be why Kuja seemed to have both male and female characteristics.

The sorcerer's tail seemed to have a mind of it's own. Though its owner was sound asleep, it decided to pay another visit to Sephiroth. The prehensile appendage curled gently around the wrist of the swordsman's stroking hand, just as Sephiroth was about to carefully lift Kuja off of him, tuck him in, and leave. Sephiroth snorted and stared at the tail, then at Kuja's pretty, seemingly innocent features. "You are a beligerent creature, aren't you?" he whispered.

The tail tightened its grip, and Sephiroth sighed and rested his back against the headboard of the bed. This apparently satisfied the tail, for it loosened its hold on his wrist. Sephiroth closed his eyes and rested.

* * *

-To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

Kuja awoke to find himself alone in his bed. He wasn't sure due to the cloud cover and the steady drizzle of rain outside his window, but it felt like midmorning. "Which means I've missed breakfast," he sighed forlornly.

He normally wasn't much of a breakfast person, but for some reason, his stomach was growling savagely at him. It was likely due to a combination of losing all of the dinner he ate last night and his body healing as he slept. Now he would have to wait for lunch. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched, glancing around hopefully. Sephiroth was nowhere in the room. He must have left sometime after Kuja fell asleep. Kuja scratched an itchy spot on his stomach and yawned. It was a shame that Sephiroth hadn't chosen to stay. The thought of waking up to the sight of the gorgeous swordsman was appealing to Kuja.

Even more appealing was the image of waking up to a naked Sephiroth.

"Oh, you do go on, Kuja," the sorcerer grumbled to himself with a grin. He looked down his body ruefully, not surprised to see morning wood. Of course, it could just as easily be "Sephiroth wood", considering some of the things that were going through his mind.

He chuckled and stood up long enough to unfasten the clasps holding his scanty thong together, and the dropped the piece onto the bed casually. He didn't bother removing any other clothing articles, for he only intended to take care of his condition so as not to embarrass himself. Well, he amended—so as not to make Sephy uncomfortable.

"Sephy," Kuja said with a giggle. He liked it. He wondered if he'd get his tongue cut out for using the nickname to the owner's face, however. Sighing, he closed his eyes and began to fondle his jutting erection. He moistened his lips and thought of Sephiroth as he pleasured himself.

Kuja encountered Sephiroth when he went downstairs to the basement level. He was passing by the library door, on his way to the tailoring room, and he stopped and backed up. Sephiroth sat in a high-backed chair with a lamp shining over him, and he held a book in his hands. He had removed his boots and propped his feet up on the nearby ottoman. It was such a different vision of the swordsman that Kuja blinked in surprise. He stared at Sephiroth's long, stretched out legs, and he wished that the tall young man had decided to remove his black coat as well.

The picture that Sephiroth made was sensual, and Kuja chastised himself for fantasizing about walking into the library, straddling Sephiroth's lap, taking the book out of his hands and ravishing him right there in the chair. He still hadn't decided if Sephiroth was genuinely attracted to him or just appreciative of his beauty in the same way one would appreciate a butterfly. The man was chaos, and it was difficult to tell whether he was strictly a ladies' man or a little of both. Kuja felt strongly that Sephiroth didn't fit into the "males only" category of gender preference.

Annoyed that his seemingly endless carnal hungers were again getting in his way, Kuja huffed and decided that he wouldn't disturb Sephiroth. He started to continue on to the tailoring room, but Sephiroth's voice gave him pause. "There's a plate of orange slices and wheat biscuits in the storage room. You should eat something before fooling with needles, or you might start to shake and end up poking holes in your fingers."

Kuja's eyebrows shot into his hair, then just as rapidly drew down. He pressed his lips together and turned around to glare at his fellow prisoner. "I'm not a child, you know. I appreciate your thoughtfulness with saving a breakfast plate for me and all, but your constant patronization is beginning to wear thin."

Sephiroth glanced up from the book he was reading, and his eyes flashed with amusement. "When you stop acting like a child, I'll stop treating you like one. The next time I tell you not to do something, don't do it. I would have been really pissed if you hadn't been close enough for me to pull you up and I would have had to climb down to get you."

"Well, maybe if you had given me more INFORMATION, I wouldn't have ventured out past the wall in the first place!" Kuja said with rising anger, "You never said a thing about our powers being useless beyond these walls, you certainly never explained that tentacle-sprouting mutants would come after us, and last but not least, you failed to mention that you had made a compost heap of the other prisoners!"

Sephiroth closed the book he was reading, set it aside, and stood up all in one smooth motion. Realizing that he may have pushed the swordsman too hard, Kuja started to activate a defense shell around himself. Sephiroth was suddenly standing before him, though he hadn't seen him move. Kuja found himself pushed against the wall of the corridor, with both of his wrists captured in one long, powerful hand and held over his head. The swordsman's other hand grasped Kuja's throat, but it didn't squeeze, and Sephiroth's hard body pressed roughly against his. Despite the danger, his body reacted wantonly to the contact and he flushed as his groin hardened against the taller man's thigh.

"You owe me your life twice over, sorcerer," Sephiroth said in a low, dangerous voice. His breath was hot against the genome's cheek, and his vise-like grip on his wrists was bruising the delicate flesh. "You'd better strive to keep me from changing my mind and deciding that an eternity alone is preferable to babysitting you."

Now Kuja's flush of arousal darkened to one of anger. His eyes flashed and he growled, "Let go of me, before I decide you would look better as a pile of ash."

Sephiroth's slit pupils dilated. "Go ahead, if you can," he dared.

Kuja opened his mouth to do just that, for he was so angry and pumped up with adrenaline at the moment that his common sense was deserting him. Forgetting that he needed this man to help him escape, he prepared to unleash his magic upon Sephiroth.

Sephiroth realized that Kuja was about to cast, and both of his hands were occupied with holding the squirming sorcerer against the wall. So, he used the only thing he had free to interrupt the magic. He crushed his mouth against Kuja's in a brutal kiss and ground his body harder against his more slender adversary.

Kuja's muffled exclamation of surprise was quickly followed by a low moan of both pain and arousal. He tried to turn his face and free his mouth, but the hand that Sephiroth had around his throat moved up and gripped his jaw, holding his head still. His tongue thrust aggressively into Kuja's open mouth, pushing against the sorcerer's to assert dominance over it.

Kuja's anger rapidly melted, and the surge of battle lust he had felt was again replaced with sexual lust. He caressed Sephiroth's thrusting tongue with his own and unwittingly began to rub himself against the swordsman's thigh. The kiss deepened even further, and Sephiroth's grip on the genome's wrists tightened. A husky purr resonated in the swordsman's throat, and Kuja felt a growing bulge of hardness pushing against his lower abdomen. He moaned against his captor's mouth and tried to encourage the sexual aggression with body language.

Sephiroth broke away so suddenly that Kuja nearly fell onto his face. The sorcerer stumbled and caught himself, then stared up at his companion with wide eyes and parted, bruised lips. Sephiroth was breathing heavily, but his eyes were cold. He didn't say anything. He just stared at Kuja for a moment, and the sorcerer caught a brief flash of helpless confusion in his eyes before he abruptly turned and rose off of the floor. "Where are you going?" Kuja asked stupidly.

Sephiroth ignored him and shot out of the hallway so fast that Kuja winced and hoped he paid attention to his steering…otherwise, the gorgeous young man would become a gorgeous new splatter on one of the walls.

Kuja rested his back heavily against the corridor wall and shook his head. "Damn him," he muttered, and he slid down the wall and hugged his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them in a display of limberness. "If boredom doesn't kill me in this place, sexual frustration surely will!"

He wasn't used to going for more than two days without bedding someone. Usually he chose a handsome young man, but he had taken many women into his bed in the past, as well. He amended that having met Sephiroth, none of those lovely creatures he had been with in the past would have satisfied the lust he was feeling now, even if he was free to seek out their company. Feeling the aggressive, sensual power that the swordsman was capable of had only cinched Kuja's desire for him.

Kuja ate the breakfast that Sephiroth had saved for him, and then he went to work on sewing a new outfit. Lunchtime came around, and Sephiroth never showed. "Probably can't come to grips with his own sexuality," Kuja mused as he ate his lunch alone. Still, the swordsman had been considerate to save a plate for him this morning, so Kuja returned the favor and piled a selection of food that he thought Sephy liked onto a plate, then stored it with a pitcher of water and a bottle of wine. He smirked. He had been saving up the extra wine and spirits that appeared with their meals, and there was now quite a collection of booze stored away. At least they could go on a drinking binge if the two of them ever got really bored.

Today, he chose to drink little in the way of alcohol, for he wanted a clear head to sew his outfit and search the compound further for any clues of how to get out of this place. His reasoning was that if there was a way in, then surely there must be a way out. If it wasn't out there in that hellish landscape, then perhaps somewhere in here, where he had arrived at in the first place.

By the time he finished his new outfit, the sun was setting and it was time for dinner. He neatly folded the garments he had made and carried them upstairs to his room, then hurried to the dining hall. Kuja leaned against the threshold and blew a sigh when he found the table to be devoid of a certain, silver haired madman. "The man has to eat sometime," he reasoned in a whisper, "he can't hide from me forever!" Curious to see if Sephy had already been through here and taken the plate of food he had put aside for him, Kuja went into the storage room before sitting down to eat. Everything remained untouched.

Trying to ignore the concern that was growing within him, the sorcerer sat down and had a cheerless dinner. He broke his rule about drinking moderately and had three glasses of wine, for he was lonely and depressed. He couldn't get the words that Sephiroth had once spoken out of his mind. Sephiroth had implied that he believed he had "freed" the fellow prisoners from this place by killing them, and he might grow weary of being here and "free" himself. But, that logic was flawed, if what the swordsman said was true.

Those bodies that lay rotting outside the wall still held the souls captive. Perhaps they were comatose and unaware of what was happening around them, but they were still trapped. Kuja finished his dinner and slowly made his way out of the dining hall and towards Sephiroth's room. He had mixed feelings about this. He had the irrational fear that Sephiroth might try to commit suicide, but if he was wrong, and the swordsman was staying away to protect Kuja from a bout of madness that had struck him, he may very well be walking into a battle.

Kuja decided that it was better to be prepared. He formed a physical and magical defensive shell around himself and was prepared to cast if need be. He found that Sephy's door was open a crack, and he tiptoed to it and pushed lightly, peering in with a sense of dread. Sephiroth was sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor, with his back to the door. His jacket and shoes lay at the foot of the plain, single bed, and he was naked from the waist up. Kuja stared with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out what the swordsman was doing. His silver hair fell down his back and pooled around him on the floor, and Kuja wished vehemently that he was facing the door, so that he could see what his chest looked like in all its glory. He didn't dare enter the room, however. Sephiroth's Masamune was lying sideways across his lap, and from Kuja's vantage point, he appeared to be resting his hands on it. He appeared to be meditating.

Deciding it was best not to disturb him, Kuja carefully pulled the door closed and left. Within the room, Sephiroth opened his bright, green eyes and stared straight ahead.

-To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

Around midnight of the day that he and Sephiroth had experienced their little "encounter", Kuja went into the storage room to get some juice. He was relieved to discover that his associate had been in there and taken the food he had put aside. Guilt was something that Kuja wasn't accustomed to feeling, and he felt responsible for Sephiroth's panicked retreat and would have been upset if the swordsman starved to death because of him. It was probably a lost cause, but Kuja was never one to give up. If he didn't get some real sex soon, he was going to go insane. He began to make his own bath oils and massage oils on the side, while he formed theories and plots to escape. That he hadn't broken any new ground with either escaping or getting Sephiroth in his bed didn't deter him in the least. Luckily, the gardens outside had a wide range of flowers and herbs for him to use in order to make his exotic oils.

"I'm becoming a regular domestic," Kuja grumbled as he stood over a bubbling cauldron and added the necessary ingredients. He had also made his own shampoos and hair conditioners, for he didn't like the way the bath soap that he had found made his hair feel. It was all well and good that his captors saw fit to provide personal hygiene basics, but for someone like Kuja, the basics weren't enough.

It wasn't all bad, he supposed. At least it kept him busy and took his mind off Sephiroth. Since that day, Sephiroth had reverted to his reclusive ways. The progress that Kuja had made with him was set back. Though the swordsman resumed dining with him the next day, nothing was said between them. Kuja tried to bring himself to strike up conversation with him, but the words froze on his lips every time. Sephiroth was perpetually frowning now, and he seemed moody. It was best not to risk provoking him to violence.

Instead, Kuja waited, expecting the inward struggle within Sephiroth to balance out on its own. He was an adult, and insane or not, he surely could come to terms with what had happened between them eventually. It wasn't as though the man's genitals would fall off from touching him!

The more he thought about it, the more insulted Kuja became. "If he would stop being a brat for five minutes and quit fixating on gender, he might like it," he said to himself. He had always been rather talkative, even when alone, but he found himself carrying on these one-sided conversations more and more, these days.

"There's simply no excuse for it!" He ranted, "I gave in to him and was ready to let him do as he wished, and he ran away like an immature little…little…oooh!" In his growing frustration, Kuja wasn't paying attention to what he was doing and one of the pots began to boil over.

"Perfect! Just ball-licking, ass-grinding perfect!" he shouted in fury as he grabbed a dishrag to protect his hand and lifted the pot off of the stove. He set the pot on the table to let it cool down, and he dragged his sweat-dampened hair out of his eyes.

"What's the use?" he murmured in despair. "I make new clothing that impresses no-one, plot ways to escape my own doom, and create massage oils that are probably just going to collect dust on the shelves." He sank to the tiled floor of the laboratory and began to cry with self-pity and loneliness.

"If only the big fool would talk to me," he sniffled, "even a word now and then would be better than nothing." He was beginning to see why Sephiroth didn't bother wasting his time trying to find a means to escape. Depression was weighing heavily on the young genome's shoulders, now.

* * *

Kuja was still hugging himself and crying when he heard the slow approach of booted feet. He looked up with eyes that streamed tears to find Sephiroth staring down at him. "It boiled over," Kuja explained unnecessarily in a voice that hitched with tears. He gestured vaguely at the stove, where a sloppy spill of bubbles and oil dripped from earlier.

"I can see that. Why are you crying?"

Kuja rolled his eyes and stood up. "Because I'm sick of this! I'm sick of being stuck here in this place, with no company except a man who might as well be a wind-up automation, for all the emotions he shows! At least if you were trying to kill me, there would be some excitement, but you don't even know I exist!"

He was having a temper tantrum, but Kuja was beyond caring, now. Somehow, he always came out looking like a spoiled child around Sephiroth, and that annoyed him even worse. "Don't just stand there and grin at me! You…you don't even care! I even made an outfit for you, and you just…just-"

"You made an outfit for me? When?"

"While you were off skulking about in dark corners, or whatever it is that you do between meals-"

"Why didn't you give it to me?"

Kuja frowned. "Because I didn't think you'd appreciate it," he said with another sniffle, "you'd probably just use it as a dust rag or something."

"If it's small enough to be used as a dust rag, I doubt it will fit me," Sephiroth said with a smirk. His voice was _almost_ kind.

Kuja huffed. "It was sarcasm, you insensitive thing! I fashioned it after studying the clothes that you're wearing now. You'd look ridiculous in something like my outfit."

Sephiroth's shoulders shook with silent laughter as he took in the tight garments the genome wore, which were designed to expose as much of his smooth skin as it hid. "I agree with you. So, how did you manage to tailor an outfit for me without my being present for you to take measurements?"

Kuja's breath still hitched, and tears still dripped down his flushed cheeks. "I've very talented," he said archly, "I can take a person's measurements just by studying them for a while. Lesser artists need tools."

"You aren't a bit arrogant, are you?"

"Oh, piss off, then! I may as well be alone in this place!" Kuja crossed his arms over his chest and turned his back to Sephiroth. His tail wound around and swished back and forth in agitation. He could never seem to control the bothersome appendage around this man. He was wearing the skin-tight, black and gold bodysuit he had made, and since there was no skirt with the outfit, his tail was quite visible.

Sephiroth stared at the offended genome for a moment, and then he approached him. Kuja's shoulders jerked with soft sobs, and his back was tense. "Get away from me," the sorcerer said when Sephiroth put a hand on his shoulder. The swordsman ignored him and turned him around. Kuja looked up at Sephiroth with confusion on his pretty features.

Sephiroth brushed some of the tears away with the pads of his fingers and said, "Shouldn't your makeup be running? It's not even smudged."

Becoming vexed again, Kuja spat, "That's because it's not makeup, you idiot! It's my markings…it's how I developed!"

"How was I supposed to know that?"

Indeed, Sephiroth wasn't the first to assume that Kuja's markings were made with eyeshadow and eyepencils. It looked just like makeup, to be fair, but Kuja was already frustrated to the boiling point and he didn't feel like being reasonable. He pushed at Sephiroth's chest and said, "Just go away. You're not helping!"

"Stop crying, and I'll go away."

This was ridiculous! "Why do you care if I cry?" Kuja stopped pushing and just rested his hand over the skin that was exposed in the part of Sephiroth's jacket. His chest was as hard as a rock, but the skin was as smooth as silk. To add insult to injury, now the sorcerer was becoming aroused!

Sephiroth seemed to consider the question. Finally, he shrugged and raised his eyebrows. "I'm not sure. It bothers me. It bothers me as much as it would bother me to see a girl cry."

Kuja almost got riled at that, but he stopped himself at the last moment. Well, at least Sephiroth hadn't actually _called_ him a girl. He said it just bothered him _as much as_ seeing a girl cry. He sniffled again and self-consciously reached up to smooth his tangled hair. "Why would it bother you to see anyone cry? You don't seem like the sort to care about another person's suffering."

Sephiroth frowned. "It comes and goes. Mother's traits sometimes dominate the human ones, and sometimes they go to the background. I hate it when that happens. I don't like feeling things."

Fascinated with this little bit of information, Kuja decided to test his companion. "Who was your Mother?"

Sephiroth released the sorcerer and combed his long fingers through his hair as he struggled to explain. "Mother was…is…an ancient. A goddess. She came from the sky, and I was created from her. A normal woman bore me, but Mother gave me life. She…she and I were supposed to…take back the Planet-"

He moaned and clutched his head, sinking to his knees. Trembling laughter emitted from him, but when Kuja knelt before him warily, he could see that the swordsman's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and tears gathered on his lashes.

"Easy," Kuja said softly, and he did what nobody in their right mind would have done when Sephiroth was in one of these moods: he reached out and stroked his hair.

"I c-can't hear her voice anymore," Sephiroth whimpered, shivering all over, "where are you, Mother? Why did you leave?" It was he who seemed like a child now, lost and afraid and desperate for comfort.

Kuja wasn't sure of what he could do. Sephiroth might not be striking out at him because he found him effeminate, and for once, Kuja didn't mind. He wasn't a particularly nurturing individual, but an odd surge of pity found its way into his heart, and he carefully gathered the crouching swordsman into his arms and stroked his hair.

Sephiroth slowly raised his head and looked at him with puzzled, emerald eyes. "I might hurt you-," he said uncertainly.

"Then it'll be my own fault," Kuja said briskly, "and I won't hold you responsible."

Sephiroth shook his head and muttered something that Kuja didn't catch, but he didn't pull away. The genome continued to hold him and stroke his hair as he mumbled and raged about his absent "Mother" and pondered over what went wrong. He seemed to find Kuja's gentle ministrations comforting, and he eventually quieted and rested his cheek on the more slender young man's shoulder with a sigh.

"Why do you risk it?" he whispered as he inhaled the mixed scent of lavender and ocean coming from Kuja's skin. "Even I can't tell when these spells are going to make me black out. I could have killed you, a moment ago."

Kuja sighed. "Well then, you would have come back to yourself and seen my bloody corpse on the floor, and perhaps you would have picked me a bouquet of flowers and begged my forgiveness when this place revived me. Maybe I'm just feeling brave because I know this place won't let me die."

"How do you know I wouldn't have dragged you outside and dumped you with the others, over the wall?" Sephiroth said ominously.

"Er…" Kuja shuddered. "That thought didn't cross my mind. Thank you, now I'm going to have nightmares."

Sephiroth sighed and pulled out of the sorcerer's arms, though it seemed he did it reluctantly. He stood up and gazed down at Kuja with puzzlement in his eyes. "I had better go," he said in a distracted tone, "If I feel enough in control of myself, I'll see you at dinner."

Kuja decided not to argue with him, for he could see himself by the sweat that broke out over the swordsman's skin and the way his hands trembled that he was losing control. "Feel better," he said helplessly as Sephiroth turned and left.

* * *

-To be continued


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the confusion in the last chapter. I've fixed it and I swear this is the actual correct chapter this time. :-D

Sephiroth did show up for dinner, and he seemed to be in a better mood. He even poured Kuja's wine for him, as sometimes was his habit. Greatly daring, Kuja asked him to explain what he had done to be placed here. He was pleasantly surprised when Sephiroth reluctantly agreed. Several times during the story, the swordsman seemed to drift into the past, and Kuja kept his guard up in case he decided he would look better spitted on his sword.

It was confusing, but he got the gist of it. Sephiroth was an experiment, much like Kuja himself. His Father was a brilliant lunatic—another similarity—and the woman who bore him was named Lucrecia. His "true Mother", as he put it, was this creature named Jenova. The glow in his eyes came from a combination of his genes and being infused with something called "Mako".

Kuja gathered that this world that Sephiroth came from was more technologically advanced than Gaia. It might have been equal to the way Terra once was, before the population began to die off. Sephiroth's life had been carefully monitored as he grew up, and Kuja decided that he didn't like this "Hojo" person that was the swordsman's supposed father. He sounded too much like Garland.

Sephiroth apparently discovered the truth of his own origins and decided to take his destiny into his own hands, after he found Jenova and took her out of Hojo's lab. He got his hands on the ultimate destruction magic, which summoned a huge, sentient comet called "Meteor" (Kuja thought this was rather amusing, but he didn't dare laugh), and he had intended to wipe out most of who he perceived as his opposition and become a god, to rule alongside his Mother.

"Being here has given me time to consider things," Sephiroth finished with narrowed, thoughtful eyes. "Had I succeeded, I would have become a god, but I would have ruled over a pile of dust. My ambition clouded my reason."

Kuja nodded in understanding. He had different reasons for doing the things he did…mainly in the interest of self-preservation and rebellion. However, the results, had he been successful, would have been much the same. "Would you have done things differently, if you could go back?"

"No." Sephiroth's answer was immediate and decisive. "Because if I did things any differently, I never would have ended up here, and I never would have seen my madness for what it is. I feel some remorse for the things I did, but I don't truly regret them."

"I understand," Kuja said in approval. "I feel the same way."

Nothing more was said on the issue, and they enjoyed their dinner in companionable silence. Kuja never imagined he would ever find someone he connected with this well, and a small voice in the back of his mind told him that it wasn't good to feel such empathy with a person who was obviously insane. Kuja told the voice to stuff it, and he sipped his wine and smiled at Sephy.

* * *

Kuja sank into the water of the pool slowly, wincing at the chill. He had learned through more questioning that Sephiroth took "cat baths", meaning that he bathed in the bathroom using a pale of warm water, some soap, and a washcloth. The swordsman had declined Kuja's invitation to join him in the pool, much to the sorcerer's disappointment. Kuja sighed and shivered as goosebumps sprang up all over his flesh, but the slight chill was worth being meticulously clean. If only he could magic up some hot water…

"You're an idiot," he hissed at himself, rolling his eyes and slapping his forehead. Of course…his magic! A simple, low-strength fire spell cast under the water might warm it easily. He would just have to be careful not to boil himself alive. He dropped his hand into the water and closed his eyes. An orange glow illuminated the pool briefly, and he felt the temperature rise to a tepid degree. Smiling in triumph, he did it again, and then a third time, and he sighed in pleasure as steam rose from the surface of the pool. "That's more like it," he purred, and he rested his arms on the edge and leaned back. His eyes closed and he gently tread the water with his legs. "This just needs some bubbles," he mused. He reached out for the lavender oil he had brought and poured some into the water, and then he used his magic to push a small gust of air into the water. He laughed in delight when the surface foamed up to his satisfaction.

"Welcome to the Kuja relaxation spa," he murmured, standing up and holding his arms out in innocent happiness.

His smile faded as he got the sense that he was being watched, and he lowered his head and looked towards the path that led back to the building. Sephiroth was standing motionless on it, staring at him with dazed, incandescent eyes. The swordsman's gaze traveled up and down Kuja's naked, wet body. The pool really wasn't very deep. The bubbly water only came up to Kuja's mid-thigh when he stood, which gave Sephiroth an impressive view of the genome's graceful, alluring body.

If Sephiroth had doubts before over Kuja's gender, they were laid to rest when his eyes traveled down the sorcerer's body and rested on his naked genitals, which were nestled in a perfect thatch of moon-pale hair.

Kuja's groin reacted immediately to the scrutiny, and the shaft lifted and swelled as Sephiroth stared. The genome's tail was raised, and it swayed back and forth behind him as he regarded the swordsman with sultry, blue eyes. "Care to join me?" he said in a seductive drone.

Sephiroth's reaction was not what Kuja had in mind. His throat worked as he swallowed, and he closed his eyes and turned his back on the genome. He then flew away without a word, leaving Kuja standing there feeling snubbed.

"You coward," Kuja said through gritted teeth. He started to feel that it was a hopeless cause, but then it occurred to him—if Sephiroth truly didn't feel an answering attraction to him, the sight of him nude wouldn't have sent him running, like that. Kuja knew that a man who wasn't attracted to another man would have simply shrugged and said, "No thanks," or something to that effect. He certainly wouldn't have looked like he wanted to rape him, and he wouldn't have fled like that. Kuja knew that his body certainly wasn't scary.

He smiled and sank back into the warm water, and he reached for his bottle of homemade shampoo and poured a small amount into his palm. As he lathered his wet hair, he hummed to himself. Sephiroth just needed some persuasion to convince him it was okay to act on his feelings, that was all.

* * *

As Kuja plotted, Sephiroth paced. He stalked back and forth over the tiles of the foyer, trying to come to terms with what he had just seen. Yes, he knew that Kuja was male, but part of him associated the genome's behavior and grace with that of a female. He couldn't deny how painfully beautiful and tempting the sight of Kuja's nudity had been. At that moment, he could only think of what a stunning creature he had before him, ready and willing to be claimed. The swordsman was breathing heavily as he imagined himself walking up that path and stepping into the pool to…to…

The only sort of experiences Sephiroth had of this nature were with women, and so he imagined freeing his aching cock from his pants and lifting Kuja's supple body onto it. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool sandstone of the hallway. It had been so long since he had bedded anyone, and never had he bedded someone with genitals like his own. It was arrogant of him to assume that Kuja would enjoy taking him into his body.

Perhaps, despite his somewhat feminine behavior, the genome was imagining doing the same thing to Sephiroth? The thought of the slender creature trying to lift him like that made Sephiroth burst into laughter, and it was the first time he had genuinely laughed in…in…well, longer than he could remember.

When he had shoved Kuja against the wall that day, he had purposely allowed his confused feelings to master him, and he was alarmed with how close he had come to ripping his companion's scanty clothing off and ravishing him.

Sephiroth had done many, many wicked things in his life, but rape was never one of them. The last thing he wanted was to add sexual assault to his growing list of sins. He sighed and tried to calm his raging lust. Kuja was not the sort to bow to another. It was his rebellion that had gotten him placed here, in the first place. Thinking that he could master the lovely genome could only lead Sephiroth down a path of further evil.

"Sephiroth?" The soft, musical inquiry came from the direction of the open archway that led into the courtyard.

Sephiroth drew a deep breath and turned to face the speaker. He immediately wished that he hadn't. Kuja stood dripping and wet and gloriously nude before him. His pale hair fell in a sparkling, damp curtain to his waist, and his groin was erect and flushed. "What are you doing?" Sephiroth breathed as the genome gracefully walked towards him.

Kuja's tail swished back and forth-like that of a stalking cat's, and his eyes were heavy-lidded and sensual. "Don't run away, this time," he purred, "making me chase you cheapens us both."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sephiroth said raggedly, averting his eyes and taking a step backwards.

Kuja advanced steadily, forcing Sephiroth to back up until he had no more room and was pressed against the wall. "Yes, you do," the genome whispered, staring up at him with lust-filled, sapphire eyes, "Don't worry. I know what you want, and I won't break if you take it."

Sephiroth shook his head. He wanted to come up with an arrogant reply, but he couldn't speak passed the raging hunger he felt. Slender, damp hands caressed his neck and the part of his chest that was exposed, and he closed his eyes. Cool, silken lips pressed against his collarbone, and another hand cupped the swollen bulge tenting his pants. Sephiroth groaned softly and started to reach down to disengage that hand, but Kuja somehow managed to open his fly and free his stiffened cock before he could do so. Sephiroth's eyes went blank and he moaned as Kuja's talented hand fondled him.

"So big," Kuja murmured with a pleased smile, staring down at the beautiful, long organ that he stroked.

"I can't-" Sephiroth said mechanically.

Kuja had prepared himself for this. He was already lubricated and ready, so he decided to make the choice for his companion. He put one arm around Sephiroth's neck and hoisted himself up, hugging the swordsman's waist with his smooth, strong thighs. As Sephiroth gaped at him in shock, the genome smiled and held his cock steady for his waiting entrance. He sank down upon it and bit his lip in both pleasure and pain as the thickness breached him.

"Oh, yes," Kuja moaned, kissing Sephiroth's slack mouth as he took the throbbing shaft deep into his body. He whimpered and began to bounce, and his tail curved down beneath his flexing bottom and forward.

Sephiroth cried out in shock and surprise as the tip of Kuja's tail thumbed back and forth over his balls, teasing the swollen globes mercilessly. Unable to stand it anymore, he cupped the genome's bottom and began to raise Kuja up and down on is cock more forcefully. "Fuck," he groaned against Kuja's mouth, unable to express how good it felt with less vulgarity.

"That's what we're doing," Kuja said shakenly, and he laughed and moaned at the same time. At first, he had been uncertain of whether his tall companion would be able to handle him suddenly climbing onto him, but Sephiroth demonstrated his strength and balance superbly. Kuja cried out as the swordsman shoved himself harder into him.

"You like that, little cocktease?" Sephiroth growled, and he did it again, claiming Kuja's lips roughly. He wanted to punish this bold creature for pushing him to this point.

Kuja's eyes opened wide and he sobbed with pleasure and pain, his fingers clutching his companion's silver hair convulsively. He nodded helplessly and parted his lips, sucking on Sephiroth's thrusting tongue.

"I'm going to hurt you…if I keep his up," Sephiroth groaned, conflicted. He knew this was wrong, knew that he shouldn't be allowing this to happen.

"No, you won't," Kuja insisted huskily, and he bit the taller man's earlobe enough to make it sting. Another sharp cry escaped his lips as Sephiroth's length was driven hard and deep into him, and he had an explosive orgasm.

If Sephiroth minded the sticky mess that Kuja had made on his leather jacket, he certainly didn't show it. He seemed thrilled that the genome had orgasmed, for he laughed softly and kissed his neck arduously.

"Oh, Sephy," Kuja gasped, feeling weak from his release and the continuing thrusts of his companion's cock.

As wonderful as this violent ravishing felt, Sephiroth was growing tired, and he slowed his pace and claimed Kuja's soft lips. The genome made soft, mewling sounds of pleasure as he took him, and Sephiroth felt a surge of affection towards him.

"Damn you, for doing this to me," Sephiroth whispered, and he pushed his shaft firmly into his companion and filled him with his seed. Kuja nibbled his neck and ears playfully and gave a sigh of satisfaction. Panting in release, Sephiroth rested his cheek on the genome's shoulder and shifted his still-impaled body to get a firmer hold on him.

Kuja's tail was still gently caressing the swordsman's scrotum, but now it was more of a gentle tickle than a wildly sexual pleasure. Sephiroth sighed and activated his natural floating ability. Kuja gasped in delight and clung a bit more tightly to him as he flew up the stairs and into his bedroom. That playful tail of his still toyed with his balls, and Sephiroth hardened again inside of the genome.

He barely made it to the bed. He hovered over it and lowered himself and Kuja onto it, and then he began to rock against the sorcerer again, taking him more gently than before. He stared down at the genome's impassioned, flushed face and marveled at his beauty. He couldn't help it…he considered Kuja to be his, now.

He lowered his mouth to the sorcerer's face and daintily licked the sparkling dampness of water and sweat from his smooth skin. Kuja smiled and undulated beneath him, encouraging his lovemaking. "You're so beautiful," the sorcerer sighed, stroking Sephiroth's long mane of hair.

Sephiroth said nothing, though he silently thought the same thing about the being that lay beneath him. He continued to stare down at Kuja, enjoying the subtle changes of expression on his face. The sorcerer's eyes were closed, the long, pale lashes casting shadows over his flushed cheeks. His shapely lips were swollen from ravishing, and his pink tongue darted out occasionally to moisten them.

This time, it was Sephiroth who came first, and he shuddered and tossed his head back as he bucked inside of his companion. Kuja hummed happily and stroked his back, and shortly after Sephiroth's climax ended, his began. Fatigued and lazy with sexual release, Sephiroth rolled over, bringing his smaller companion with him so that he was lying on top of him.

Kuja pressed soft kisses over Sephiroth's neck, and he suddenly giggled.

"What's so funny?" Sephiroth said with only mild annoyance.

"Your pants are still on. Next time, you're going naked."

Sephiroth sighed and nuzzled Kuja's soft, damp hair. "Shut up."

* * *

-To be continued


	8. Chapter 8

Despite the fact that Sephiroth had recently orgasmed and he had softened somewhat within Kuja's body, the genome gently undulated on top of his companion. He worked at the buckled straps holding Sephiroth's long jacket closed, and he smiled mischievously at the swordsman when Sephiroth looked at him curiously. "You have to give me some time to rest, you little hellion," the swordsman said breathlessly. He was still trembling from the force of his last ejaculation.

Kuja paused and hummed thoughtfully, looking off to the side as if considering Sephiroth's words. "No," he said simply, and he planted a quick kiss on his companion's lips before resuming his work. His lust was sated for the moment, but it didn't stop him from enjoying sliding his body along Sephiroth's and feeling his manhood move back and forth within him. Even softened, Sephiroth was big. Kuja smiled in pleasure and began to pull at the straps with his teeth.

"Hey! Those aren't chew toys!" Sephiroth said firmly. His palm came down on one of Kuja's smooth, round butt cheeks with a resounding smack, making the sorcerer cry out and jerk.

"Oooh, do that again," Kuja said, licking his lips.

Sephiroth's eyebrows shot up, and for possibly the first time in his life, he bore an expression of utter amazement on his sculpted features. "You're joking."

Kuja shook his head. "Nuh-uh. It excites me." He was grinning wickedly at the taller young man and pulling on one of the jacket straps, having finally released the buckle. His manhood was beginning to stiffen against Sephiroth's abdomen as proof that he was getting excited again.

Sephiroth shrugged. "You asked for it." His hand came down again, harder this time, and Kuja arched his back and whimpered.

Sephiroth rubbed the reddening spot soothingly, grinning and shaking his head at his slender companion. "You're a really strange person, Kuja."

Kuja chuckled and continued to pull his jacket open with his teeth. "That's better," the genome finally breathed when the stubborn jacket came open all the way. He stared down at Sephiroth's toned chest and abdomen, admiring the lean muscles that moved gracefully beneath the smooth skin. He lowered his face to the alluring torso and began to explore it with his lips, while slowly rotating his hips. Sephiroth sighed and began to harden again, and Kuja smiled. His tail slid beneath Sephiroth's thigh and wound around it as he thrust.

Sephiroth closed his eyes and moaned softly, meeting the thrusts with upward lifts of his pelvis. He didn't know if it was because it had been so long since he had last had sex, or because Kuja was just so damned good in bed, but the swordsman couldn't concentrate on anything except the pleasure. Even the chaos in his head subsided. He opened his eyes and looked up at Kuja, who had risen back up and was staring down at him with a crooked, sultry little smile on his lips. His silver, violet-tinged hair was falling partially over his blue eyes, and he tilted his head back to shake the unruly locks back into place.

Sephiroth gazed at the genome's lithe body, amazed again by the beauty of it. The pink nipples were hardened with arousal, the flat stomach flexing and relaxing with his motions. The hips, which were unusually shapely for a male, moved back and forth over Sephiroth's pelvis, and their smooth, sensual motions entranced the swordsman. He stroked the genome's hips, letting his eyes drink in every angle, curve and valley in Kuja's body.

Kuja sighed in pleasure at Sephiroth's touch, allowing the callused hands to explore him at their leisure. He began to realize that Sephy seemed a bit unsure of himself as the swordsman's hands kept gliding over his thighs and hips, and then his stomach, but always seemed to change their mind when they got too close to his stiffened genitals. It was, after all, Sephiroth's first time with a male. He couldn't have made it plainer if he had shouted it out loud.

Deciding that he was getting irritated with Sephiroth's hands procrastinating, he took one of them in his and guided it slowly to his rigid sex, staring deeply into the other's green eyes as he did so. Sephiroth looked from Kuja's face to the erect organ that he was guided to, and he allowed the genome to gently close his fingers over it. Kuja wasn't a large size, but neither was he very small. In fact, his sex was proportioned perfectly to his nearly delicate frame, and Sephiroth stared at the velvety member as he caressed it. Like the rest of Kuja, it was pretty.

After a couple of moments, he felt confident enough to slide his other hand beneath the shaft he fondled to find the genome's balls and cup them carefully. Kuja moaned his name and closed his eyes in pleasure, his hips steadily rocking back and forth. Sephiroth shuddered and sucked in some quick, sharp breaths to hold off the orgasm that was trying to surface. The urgency from earlier was gone now, and he wanted the sex to last for a long time. After all, there was no telling how long it would be before he bedded anyone again, after this.

It took a bit of coaxing and tutoring on Kuja's part, but he guided Sephiroth's hands and let him know with breathy gasps when he was touching him right. Soon, Kuja was moving more quickly, and his tail constricted tightly around Sephiroth's lean-muscled thigh. The swordsman bucked beneath him suddenly, nearly lifting him off of the mattress, and Kuja groaned loudly as the hard cock within him pushed against his prostate. He jerked and shivered uncontrollably as he came, and he looked down at Sephiroth with half-closed eyes and saw that the swordsman was watching his sex buck in his hand. This turned Kuja on even more, especially when Sephiroth smoothed his thumb over the spurting cap and gasped that it was beautiful. Brilliant colors burst behind Kuja's eyelids as the thrill of ecstasy pulsed through him, and he came close to passing out.

"Ah, Sephiroth," Kuja gasped, bowing his head and letting his hair fall forward over his face and shoulders. The other's agile hands slowed in their fondling of his pulsing genitals, soothing them as the orgasm finished. Kuja smiled down at Sephiroth and lowered his upper body to rest against his chest. Sephiroth's hands moved around to his hips and caressed them as Kuja continued to slowly undulate. His breath was quickening, and his body was growing tense.

Kuja chuckled and whispered, "You don't have to hold it in. It isn't as though this is the only time I intend to have sex with you."

Sephiroth didn't respond with words. He hugged Kuja tightly to him and groaned into his hair, lifting his hips to impale him deeply. The sorcerer closed his eyes and purred as he felt Sephiroth's hot seed spurt inside of him. Panting, Sephiroth nuzzled his smaller companion's hair and held him tightly until the climax ended. He stroked Kuja's back in long, smooth motions, letting his hand caress his tight bottom at the end of each stroke. He had decided that while the genome's entire body was lovely, he was most fond of his hips and ass.

Kuja sighed in contentment and snuggled against him, and he didn't seem to mind just leaving Sephiroth's manhood inside of him. Sephiroth stared up at the ceiling and wondered where this was going to go, considering how unstable he was. He could never truly be close to anyone, for he was too dangerous. When his spells came upon him, he would have to hide away, so that he wouldn't try to hurt Kuja.

"What are you thinking about?" Kuja asked lazily, yawning lightly as he ran his fingertips up and down Sephiroth's left bicep. "You've gone awfully quiet."

Sephiroth rolled his eyes. Yes, in some ways, Kuja was a lot like a woman. "Can't I just catch my breath?"

Kuja chuckled and kissed his chest. "Apparently not. Something's on your mind, isn't it?"

"You're a perceptive creature," Sephiroth sighed. "Look, I don't want you to think that we can have this every night. I'm not always this…this calm. I can't promise that I won't try to hurt you, if you catch me during one of my bad times."

Kuja rolled his eyes. Leave it to this gorgeous buffoon to ruin a perfectly wonderful afterglow. It wasn't like he was asking Sephy to marry him, for the love of Terra! "Listen, Sephiroth. If I were truly in so much danger from you when you go off on your little tangents, wouldn't it stand to reason that you should have already attacked me, by now? You know where my room is. I doubt a simple lock would keep you out, and even if I locked the bolts on it, you could get in. You've never once truly attacked me. The closest you've ever come was when we had our little disagreement in the basement that day, and the only thing you attacked me with then was your tongue."

"That doesn't mean that I couldn't-"

"I know, there's still that chance that you're not willing to take," Kuja interrupted with a sigh. "I respect that…I even understand it. I just wish you would stop going on and on about it, okay? Let's just be happy with what we can get, and try to figure out a way to escape this place."

Sephiroth closed his mouth and nodded, but Kuja could feel that he wasn't really agreeing with him. Still, he stopped talking about doom and gloom, which was good enough, for now. Kuja basked in the afterglow of the most intense sex he had experienced in years, and he slowly drifted off to sleep. Sephiroth stayed awake for a while, stroking the genome's smooth back with his fingertips and staring at the ceiling with troubled, glowing eyes. Finally, he followed Kuja into slumber, though his was uneasy and filled with fears that he didn't understand.

* * *

_"What are you doing?"_

_"I am trying to study this object. Gaians my age seem to enjoy tossing it back and forth, though I do not understand why. Perhaps there is some special property it contains that I have not yet discovered."_

_Kuja looked down at the other genome, which was still a child, and he shook his head. What did his kind lose, by being kept here as vessels? What sort of personalities might develop with time, if the children that Garland created were allowed to grow on their own? Without completely understanding why he bothered, Kuja knelt before the child and held his hand out meaningfully._

_The smaller genome handed the ball to him, and Kuja mused over it and turned it over in his hands. "There's nothing special about it," he explained, "it's just a game they like to play with each other. It's a sort of exercise that they do for fun." Kuja gently tossed the ball back at the little girl, who caught it and gazed at him with confusion._

_"Why? What does it accomplish?" She questioned._

_Kuja shrugged. "Nothing, really. It's just fun. More fun than staring into a blue light all day long, I can tell you for certain."_

_She scratched her blond head, which was cut in a style similar to all of the other genomes. Of their entire species, Kuja was the only one whose looks didn't fall into line with the others'. The little girl reached out and curiously took a strand of his pale, shiny hair between two fingers. "You look different than the rest of us."_

_"That's because I've been infused, and I've developed as a result. The rest of you will get your turn, sooner or later."_

_Her hazel eyes stared at him with obvious fascination. "Will we be as pretty as you are?"_

_Kuja actually blushed at that, though he wasn't sure why. He was used to people expressing their appreciation of his unusual looks, but coming from this innocent, it felt different. He smiled at the girl and spread his hands. "I can't tell you. Each of you will attract different spirits as you mature. Who knows, maybe you'll get to develop on your own someday, without having someone picking and choosing what features you get. I'm sure you'll be beautiful, though." It was the kindest word he had ever given to any of his fellow genomes, for this was the first time that one of them had ever complimented him._

_"You are going away?" The child seemed distressed._

_"Yes. Look for change, little sister. Perhaps when I return, things will be different for the genomes."_

* * *

The dream faded, and Kuja thought for a moment that he would cry as his mind recalled his first hopes, when he discovered the details behind Garland's plans. Garland had chosen him because of the individuality that he had begun to show at an early age. When Kuja learned this and saw Zidane's progress, he tried to "hide" him from Garland by sending him to Gaia.

He had met the little girl sometime later, after he resolved himself to secretly gather his strength and defy his so-called "Master". Sometime during his absence from Terra, Garland had chosen to infuse that same little girl with collected souls, and Kuja returned briefly to report to him and discovered that she hadn't survived the process. This, of course, only made him more determined to put an end to his creator.

He swallowed and listened to Sephiroth's slow, easy breathing, taking comfort that the swordsman was still in bed with him. He had expected Sephiroth to wake up sometime in the night and demand that he return to his own room, but instead, he found himself lying beside his companion. Sephiroth's hand was curled possessively over Kuja's hip, and one of his knees was pushed between the genome's thighs. He must have woken up and re-fastened his pants in the night, for they were pulled back up around his waist and closed again. He was still bare-chested, however, and Kuja silently admired his partial nudity.

 _"And here I am, as naked as can be,"_ thought the sorcerer with a smirk. That didn't bother him, though. He was comfortable, and the casual way his sleeping companion was touching him sent a little flutter of emotion through his breast. What was it that he felt? He hated bowing to others, especially after Garland. In bed, he could be the aggressor or the supplicant, though with men, he generally behaved submissively. There was more than just sexual submission here, however. It annoyed him when Sephiroth got bossy with him, but at the same time, it thrilled him. He only hoped that the gorgeous man lying next to him didn't take things too far and try to own him. That would certainly be too much.

Sephiroth's eyes suddenly opened, and the emerald glow was a bit eerie in the dim room. "What time is it?"

Good. A perfectly normal question. Not; "What the hell are you doing in my bed," or "How did we end up like this", or even worse, "I've decided to kill you now."

"It's early morning," Kuja whispered, reaching out to stroke a loose strand of silver hair out of Sephiroth's eyes. "It'll probably be another couple of hours before it starts to get light out."

Sephiroth yawned and blinked, then he slowly scanned Kuja's nude body with his eyes. "You can go back to your own room, if you want," he said. The words came out slowly, as if he was reluctant to say them, and he had cupped the genome's smooth hip with the hand that was resting on it.

"I think I'll stay here until late morning, if that's alright by you," Kuja said lightly, stretching a bit. "I'm already settled in, and your bed is comfortable enough." It wasn't a large bed, which incidentally fit Kuja's purpose all the better. They were forced to lay close together on it.

Sephiroth nodded, and without another word, he slid his hand up and put his arm around the sorcerer's waist to pull him closer. Kuja was surprised and delighted, and he rested his cheek against the swordsman's hard chest and caressed his back with his fingertips. He smiled when he felt Sephiroth nuzzle the crown of his head. Perhaps this sort of contact wasn't going to be a regular occurrence between them, but Kuja believed it was worth waiting a few days in between. When Sephy was like this, he felt very safe and protected.

His blue eyes opened wide at his own thoughts, and he almost groaned aloud.

This place was going to turn him into a housewife, if he didn't get out of here! He was becoming far too comfortable with his surroundings, and far too dependent upon Sephiroth. He reminded himself that Sephiroth wasn't just some gorgeous young actor or musician that he had picked up. The man was a killer, and crazy, to boot. Kuja knew this, and yet another sigh passed his lips as Sephiroth's body pressed more snugly against his and his hands began to stroke his back.

 _"Worry about it later,"_ he thought to himself, _"Just enjoy him while you can, get some rest, and focus on getting out of here when your head is clear."_ He hoped that it would be as easy as it sounded, but he knew it wouldn't be.

* * *

-To be continued


	9. Chapter 9

The morning after they had sex, Kuja awoke before Sephiroth, and he left his bedroom and cleaned himself up, then dressed in his old outfit (since he only had three to choose from, so far). He would have thought things were going on as normal, after that, for Sephiroth met him for breakfast and didn't mention anything about the night before. However, Kuja felt his eyes caressing him, everytime he looked away. He also felt his eyes on him throughout the day and night, though Sephiroth rarely showed himself. Kuja was well aware that Sephiroth was watching him almost constantly, and a part of him was flattered and warmed by it, while his practical side was unnerved. It was so hard to tell what Sephiroth was thinking, and without being able to see his expression, Kuja knew that his vigilance could be for predatory purposes as easily as sexual lust.

Sephiroth didn't come to him that night, or the next, or the next. They spoke little when they saw one another at meals, but there was definitely a silent bond between the two of them. Instead of being disappointed, Kuja used the free time to go over the compound with a fine-toothed comb, so to speak. He stretched out his senses to their fullest capacity and searched until he was exhausted. He could sense the protective barrier surrounding the compound, but nothing else. He concluded that if there was a portal anywhere in here before, it was gone now. The only logical way out would be to brave that harsh, desolate landscape and search out there.

What was there to find? More prisons like this, probably…full of insane people waiting to carve out their organs. If they could even make it that far. Sephiroth had hinted that it was worse out there at night, which could mean that the manifestations only appeared after dark. Could the two of them make it to a safe place before the sun set, if they were to leave?

All of this threatened to plunge Kuja into a pit of depression, but he refused to let it bring him down. There had to be a way out of here. He had already deduced that they were on a planet, rather than some sort of prison dimension. He even tested his theory concerning the manifestations, in a great act of courage.

This time, he brought rope from one of the storage rooms, so that he could quickly climb back up and over the wall if anything attacked him. He scaled the wall during the day (choosing a different part of the wall, away from the pile of corpses) and stood on the other side determinedly, for a full half-hour. Nothing came for him, though he did see some figures far in the distance. He seriously doubted that they were other travelers.

Kuja theorized that the apparitions could still manifest during the day, but they were unfocused and didn't appear close to the recipient. In fact, they seemed to appear fairly far away. He made a mental note of this and climbed back over the compound walls.

He did see Sephiroth in the study frequently. At least the man had an appreciation for literature. The swordsman usually glanced up at him from whatever book he was reading and acknowledged him with a polite nod or a wave, but he rarely ever spoke. Kuja decided to explain his theories to him one day, describing what happened when he stepped outside of the boundaries.

"I think it's a property of the surrounding land, and whoever built this place thought it would make a perfect prison world. That's just a hypothesis, mind you. I intend to find the people who put us here, eventually."

"What do you plan to do to them when you do?" Sephiroth questioned. He took a sip of coffee and replaced the cup on the stand beside his chair as he gazed up at the pacing sorcerer.

"I don't know…ask them what in the hell they thought they would accomplish, for one thing. They clearly chose a bad mixture of prisoners for ours."

"I don't know…you and I seem to get along fairly well."

Kuja looked up and caught Sephiroth's grin just before the swordsman schooled his features into a bland mask. He chuckled. "Yes, we're the exception. I've wondered now and then, though."

Sephiroth frowned. Kuja noticed that his hand was shaking when he lifted the cup for another drink. "I've had trouble concentrating. It's best that I keep my distance, for now."

Kuja bit his lip in a gesture that made him look pouty and sweet, and Sephiroth stared at the genome's shapely lips. Kuja noticed the stare, and he knew that Sephiroth still wanted him. The desire was clear in the cat-like, green eyes. Sephiroth's gaze traveled the rest of Kuja's form, and he finally closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I'll leave you alone," Kuja said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. Sephy wasn't purposely teasing him, he knew. That the swordsman gave enough of a damn to try and protect him softened Kuja's frustration to a bearable level. He left the study and went to the tailoring room to think up a new outfit. Then he remembered that he still hadn't given Sephiroth either of the two outfits he had made for him. "I'll give it to him when he's…less crazy," Kuja said to himself.

* * *

That night, Sephiroth didn't come down for dinner. Getting accustomed to the swordsman's occasional absence at meals, Kuja did his usual and fixed a plate up for him, storing it with some juice and mead. After eating, the sorcerer went outside to the pool, to take a bath. He started to shrug out of his long-sleeved vest, when he heard a scream from the second story of the building that put his heart in his throat. He whirled around and faced the way he came from, staring with wide eyes. The scream belonged to Sephiroth, and it was filled with such dreadful torment that Kuja impulsively ran back to the house and up the stairs. He didn't think of the danger he could be putting himself in…he could only think of how tortured the wail was, and that he had to make sure Sephy was all right.

He found Sephiroth's door hanging open, and the swordsman was kneeling on the floor, with his hands clutching his head. "Seph-" Kuja started.

"Stay away!" Sephiroth growled, shoving one hand out, palm up with warning. His cat's eyes were glowing so brightly that Kuja felt like they were spearing through him. "Go! Go…to your room…lock your door! Ward it!"

Then, Sephiroth's fingers curled into his silver hair again, and he began to laugh. It was the most malicious, evil laughter that Kuja had ever heard, and that was saying a lot. One of his shaking hands began to reach behind his back, to grasp the hilt of his Masamune.

Kuja needed no further urging. He backed out of the room, and almost the moment he was past the threshold, the door slammed shut with an invisible force. He heard a crash and the sound of something sliding across the floor within the room, and then a thump as something heavy was placed on the other side of the door. "He's trying to barricade himself in," Kuja whispered, goosebumps springing up on his flesh. He hurried down the hall and into his room, slamming the door shut behind him and locking all of the bolts. He then went to the window, finally realizing why there were miniature iron gates instead of shutters on it. He closed them and slid the brace down over them. This done, he concentrated on placing powerful wards over both the door and the window.

It was difficult to think through the dreadful, raving howls coming from down the hallway. Kuja set his jaw and continued his task. He told himself he wasn't afraid when his hands began to shake. He had never seen Sephiroth this bad before, and the swordsman was probably the strongest adversary he had ever faced. He hoped feverishly that it wouldn't come to that.

He liked Sephiroth, when he was sane, and not just because of his looks. He was a cultured, intelligent individual that Kuja connected with on many levels. "Don't wear yourself out on the wards, idiot," Kuja scolded himself, realizing he was putting so many of them up that when this insanity ended, he would have a jolly time unraveling them to get back out. There was that, and the fact that he didn't stand a chance in hell against Sephiroth physically. He needed to conserve his magic, in case the worst happened and the swordsman got past his wards.

When it was finished, he backed away from the door and doused the lanterns, plunging his room into darkness. He had superior night vision, so it didn't handicap him much, and he thought it was best not to have the lights on and draw Sephiroth's attention to his room. He climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, hoping that Sephiroth's condition would ebb away in the night. He lay there staring at the ceiling, tense and ready to defend himself as he listened to the screams. Crashes soon followed, and Kuja knew that Sephiroth was out of his room. He lost track of time as he lay there in the dark, waiting for something to happen. Eventually he dozed off.

He wasn't sure how long he slept, but the sound of slow, booted footsteps approaching his door from outside made Kuja's eyes flare open. He looked towards the door, where he could see the light from the hallway through the crack beneath it. He stared at it as the footsteps drew closer. He couldn't stop himself from wincing and clutching the covers more tightly as the sudden sound of an impact and breaking wood filled the air. Sephiroth was on a rampage, breaking furniture, probably slicing up bedding and Terra knew what else. Kuja could hear his maniacal laughter, and he judged that the swordsman was a couple doors down from his room. "I'm not afraid," Kuja insisted stubbornly as he heard something smash, "I'm not afraid."

The noise from down the hall suddenly stopped, and Kuja held his breath. The footsteps resumed, coming closer and closer to his door. He stared at the light emitting from beneath his door and whispered, "Please, don't make me fight you, Sephiroth."

A shadow blocked out the light, and he could hear heavy breathing. A masculine voice was muttering from behind the door, arguing with itself. Kuja couldn't make out the exact words, but he knew, somehow, that Sephiroth was fighting with himself and trying in his own way to protect him. Kuja's eyes widened as the knob on his door rattled.

"Don't, Sephiroth…I'm not kidding. Don't make me fight you. You're the only friend I have!" Kuja was mouthing it, fighting tears that came from two different kinds of fears. The foremost fear was, strangely enough, that he would be forced to harm his silver-haired companion. The latter was for his own life. Sometime during his stay here, he had gotten attached to his unpredictable associate. He wasn't normally the sort to worry about others first, but now the thought of unleashing his most powerful spells on Sephiroth was abhorrent. He would do it, if he had to, but he would weep in the process. What would happen then? If Kuja won and killed Sephiroth, the swordsman would be revived eventually, and he might not forgive him. Would he be forced to drag the tall man's corpse to the wall and dump it with the others on the opposite side?

But, he reminded himself, if he lost and Sephiroth killed him, there was a good chance that he would end up crowning that pile, himself. If it came to it, he would try to subdue his dangerous friend…perhaps he could find some way to restrain him until he could work out an escape plan. Maybe he could find someone to help Sephiroth's condition, if he could make it back to Gaia and bring the swordsman with him.

All of this was going through his head as the doorknob turned slowly back and forth, and finally, he heard Sephiroth snarl; "NO!" and the turning ceased. The shadow that blotted out the light beneath the door retreated, as did the footsteps.

Kuja realized that his ears were ringing from the force of the blood pounding through his veins, and his mouth was dry as though stuffed with cotton. He swallowed several times, trying to work saliva back into his mouth.

All he could think was; "Thank you…thank you," though he didn't know whom exactly he was thanking. Perhaps some divine being, perhaps Sephiroth. All that mattered was that for the time being, he was safe, and he wouldn't be forced to fight the only companion he had. Exhausted by the emotions that had been coursing through him, Kuja closed his eyes, and eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

He was startled out of his sleep less than an hour later by the sound of something tapping against his window. "Oh, no," he mumbled, feeling fear creep up on him again. He didn't want to look, but his eyes opened of their own accord and shifted to the warded and barred window.

Sephiroth was hovering outside, and his neon eyes stared into the room, locking with Kuja's. He didn't do anything. He just stared. This wasn't the Sephiroth that Kuja knew. The man's eyes were hot with two kinds of lust…the lust for blood, and the lust for sex. Sephiroth seemed utterly alien and menacing as he stared through the bars at the genome, and Kuja began to move his lips in preparation for a spell.

Sephiroth smiled at him, as if reading his thoughts, but the smile was cruel and wicked. This was a man who would rape him and kill him, if he could get inside. The Masamune glinted in the moonlight, and Sephiroth tapped the window with the tip of it, again. He expected Kuja to just give in and let him in. That wasn't going to happen, of course.

Kuja waited; ready to tan Sephiroth's skin if he moved any closer. Sephiroth's eyes clouded suddenly, and he frowned. Kuja could actually _see_ the Sephiroth he knew surface for a moment, and he saw his lips move feverishly. Sephiroth dropped his sword suddenly and curled his fingers into his hair.

Kuja cringed in his bed as the swordsman began to howl, and he watched Sephiroth rise upwards until he was out of sight. He knew he probably shouldn't, but Kuja got out of bed and slowly approached the window. He peered up, craning his neck to see what was happening. Sephiroth was shaking his head, his pale hair flying around him as he struggled with himself. His painful howls became screams again, and he rose higher and higher.

Against his better judgement, Kuja began to unravel the wards protecting his bedroom window. He understood that his companion was trying to come back to himself, and he was filled with a dread fear for his safety. "I must be losing my mind," the genome muttered as the last ward fell away and he pulled the bar aside to open the iron grating on the window. Nevertheless, he couldn't abandon Sephiroth.

He opened the window and stuck his head out, looking up. Sephiroth was high in the air now, writhing and shouting. Kuja bit his lip, unsure of what he should do…or even what he could do. Sephiroth was in his own personal hell, fighting with himself. There wasn't a damn thing that Kuja could do to aid him in that battle.

The sorcerer's heart nearly stopped at what happened next. Sephiroth's howls were cut off abruptly, and the swordsman began to plummet to the ground. He was unconscious. Acting purely on instinct, Kuja shouted and called a hefty gust of wind to capture the falling man. It wasn't the smoothest landing in the world, but he managed to guide Sephiroth's helpless form to the ground safely. Instead of being smashed and killed on the cobblestones, Sephiroth would only suffer some painful bruises when he woke up. He lay in the courtyard with his silver hair spread around him like a nimbus of light, and his naked sword rested a few feet away.

Kuja huffed a relieved sigh and decided that he couldn't wait to unravel the wards on his door. He activated a levitation spell and floated out the window, drifting down to Sephiroth's unconscious form.

Landing lightly beside him, Kuja started to examine the swordsman's body to judge how serious his injuries might be. The glint of steel caught his eye, and he glanced at the Masamune and pressed his lips together. First thing was first. He didn't want that thing anywhere near Sephiroth's reach, in case he woke up and was still insane.

Kuja stood up and walked to the sword, lifting it carefully. He was surprised by how light it was. His floating spell was still active, so he levitated up to his bedroom window and glided in. He would give Sephiroth his sword later, when he was sure he wouldn't spit him with it. For now, he thought it was best to keep it hidden under his bed. Once this was done, he went back to Sephiroth, who was still lying unconscious.

"Well, my friend…it looks as though I get to play nurse for you." Kuja said softly, stroking the swordsman's sculpted jaw with his fingertips. A grin of relief found its way onto Kuja's lips as Sephiroth groaned weakly. "I'll take care of you, Sephy."

* * *

-To be continued


End file.
